


The Men From Onyx

by kpmh2001



Series: The Men From Onyx Series [1]
Category: Halo (Video Games) & Related Fandoms, RWBY
Genre: Crossover, Drama, Gen, Sci-Fi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:11:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 56
Words: 341,871
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kpmh2001/pseuds/kpmh2001
Summary: A UNSC frigate is sent into another dimension after a disaster with their slipspace drive. Now lost in unknown territory, they must attempt to befriend the population of a local planet of strange humans under constant siege from an army of monsters. Consider this a minor AU as RWBY hasn't explained a few things about it's world that I have filled in.
Series: The Men From Onyx Series [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2062722
Comments: 19
Kudos: 16





	1. Chapter 1

**Onyx, Zeta Doradus System**

**Camp Currahee**

**1203 Local Time, August 4th, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

From an outsider's perspective, Onyx was a very familiar planet. Green continents, blue oceans, and a wispy cloud-cover made for a familiar sight in the vacuum of space. But Onyx wasn't like an average human colony world for a variety of reasons. It lacked any of the signs of terraforming, it's Earth-like wildlife hadn't been imported, and it was devoid of any tectonic activity. But the most interesting thing on the planet was a pair of small, top-secret military installations.

The first was a training camp, aptly named Camp Currahee. The word was of Cherokee origin, and meant "Stand Alone". It was a fitting name, given that the only other sign of civilization in the star system was a small research installation nearby, Zone 76. Such a remote location and strict secrecy was not without its reasoning, as Camp Currahee was home to one of the most secretive projects in the history of the UNSC. The Spartan III program only had one goal, to create an elite force of humanity's finest warriors.

The camp itself was made up of everything needed to complete the project. Barracks, Storehouses, configurable arenas, firing ranges, a large parade field, medical facilities, and more. Today was a special day for Camp Currahee, as today the newest class of candidates for the Spartan III program arrived for their first day of training.

Standing on a podium on the parade field, the overseer of the project, Kurt-051 double checked his notes as he spotted the Pelican dropships approach for their landing. As a former Spartan II, Kurt had assembled the most effective and brutally unforgiving training regimen he could devise, and if the candidates wanted to become a Spartan, they would complete it. The dropships touched down, and dozens of dreary-eyed kids, aged anywhere from four to six walked out of the dropships, corralled by the instructors.

Every single candidate had been personally approved by either him or his assistant, Senior Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez, who stood next to him on the platform. Besides Mendez were his other two closest assistants, Tom-B292 and Lucy-B091, who were dressed in their suits of Semi-Powered Infiltration armor. While they would be helping train the new class of Spartan IIIs in the future, today, they served as examples as to what the candidates were hoping to achieve.

Once all of the candidates stood on the field, staring at him and his subordinates with weary eyes. All of them would have recently been thawed out of cryosleep, so their exhaustion was not expected. As soon as they quieted down and the instructors had everyone organized, Mendez stepped up to the microphone. He had once admitted to Kurt that he improvised all of his speeches, something that made his commanding aura even more impressive.

"Stand to attention, and listen up!" Mendez yelled, some of the kids actually jumped, startled out of their sleepy states. "You all know why you're here, but before we get to anything, we will cover basic introductions, do you understand?"

There were murmurs of acceptance.

"What was that?! I couldn't hear you over all of that pathetic mewling!" Mendez shouted into the microphone, which ensured that everyone was now fully awake and attentive. "You will respond with either "Sir Yes Sir", or "Sir No Sir", depending on what I demand of you, do you understand?!"

"Sir Yes Sir!" The kids shouted in an uneven chorus of yells and screams.

_Hmm, not as loud as Beta Company._ Kurt thought, slightly disappointed. _Then again, there aren't quite as many this time around..._

Mendez first gestured to Kurt. "This is Lieutenant Commander Kurt Ambrose! You will answer to his Commands as if they were given to you by god himself! He is your Commanding Officer, and over the next few days you will all find out exactly what that entails!"

Next he gestured to Tom and Lucy. "This is Tom-B292 and Lucy-B091, both of whom are Spartans. They will be serving as some of your instructors, and if you follow our instructions to the letter, you may just end up like them!"

Finally Mendez placed his hand on his chest. "And I am Chief Petty Officer Franklin Mendez. I am the senior drill instructor here at Camp Currahee, and you will refer to me as "Sir"."

The earlier feeling of exhaustion was gone, replaced by a familiar sense of attentiveness among the children. They had learned how to keep the kids focused from the earlier companies, and those lessons were paying off. Even though they were undisciplined, they were at the very least listening.

"Now, raise your right hand if you want to be a Spartan!" Mendez shouted. Kurt could feel the authoritative energy radiate from the man as he spoke.

Every single candidate raised their hand. There was hesitation in some of them, something that Kurt was expecting but still disappointed to see. Maybe that's unreasonable on my part, they aren't Spartans, they're still just kids.

"Hmm, that's good." Mendez calmly noted. "Now turn around and get back on those dropships, double time!"

Some of the kids looked confused, but the instructors guided them slowly back onto the dropships. Some of the kids refused, and were taken by the other instructors to a different group so that they wouldn't get mixed up. Once they were all aboard the dropships took off into the air. Mendez turned off the microphone and turned to Kurt, Tom and Lucy.

"So what do you think? Any deaths this time around?" Mendez asked, his hardened exterior cracking for a moment to display his concern.

"Alpha and Beta companies both did the jump with only a few injuries, I have faith in them." Kurt answered, confident in the safety of their parachuting equipment.

"I dunno, they looked pretty tired." Tom noted.

Lucy made several hand gestures towards Tom, who relayed what she was 'saying'. Her mute nature meaning she now communicated in sign language.

"Lucy is confident they'll make it." Tom relayed.

"I hope you're right Sir." Mendez said, looking at Kurt. "We haven't had any fatalities yet, and I'm sure as hell hoping it stays that way."

**Echo 330, Pelican Dropship**

**Camp Currahee, High Altitude**

Ben looked around the crowded dropship as it ascended higher into the air. It was filled with kids, all just like him. It was cramped to the point that he barely had any room to move, and the instructors were wading waist deep in children to move through the vessel. He assumed all of the kids had all gone through a similar set of events that lead them to this moment. Some of them looked a bit older than him, around six or seven years old, while others looked even younger than him, and he was only five.

Ben had been sitting in an orphanage on a backwater colony whose name he could barely even pronounce, living a miserable day-to-day life. Everything changed the day that the Navy Man in had arrived and offered him the chance to get revenge on the aliens who murdered his family and burned his home planet. The recruiter hadn't even finished talking before Ben had said yes.

He hated the Covenant, he had watched as his father, mother, and his baby brother had been butchered in front of him. The tall alien, which looked like a giant gorilla, had shot him as well, striking his face with its energy gun. When he passed out, the aliens must have assumed he was dead, because he was alone when some soldiers had found him. Despite the best efforts of the doctors, his face was permanently deformed.

He didn't want anyone else to go through what he had, to never be powerless again. He wanted to go back in time and shoot the aliens with a weapon of his own, something like the soldiers had been carrying. He wanted to be a hero, like the kind he saw on the recruiting billboards.

"Listen up! I'm only going to say this once!" An instructor said from the back end of the Pelican. "You will be performing a High-Altitude jump! What that means is that you will be handed a parachute, and then you will exit the rear of the dropship at five-thousand meters above the ground! As you are falling, you will activate your parachute, and you will not be killed by the fall. Am I clear?!"

The nervous butterflies in his stomach suddenly doubled their activity. He had assumed there would be some sort of steady increase in difficulty with the training, but apparently they were starting off by jumping out of an aircraft. His heartbeat started to rapidly increase, but he swallowed his fear.

_Come on, you can do this. You've survived the impossible before, remember?_ He thought, trying to reassure himself.

After a moment's further instruction, Ben was handed a parachute. After a few misguided attempts to put it on one of the instructors stopped him and helped him put on.

"Thanks." Ben said.

"Shut up kid, keep your eyes on the door, and listen to the man with the eagle on his hat." The instructor coldly replied, not even looking him in the eyes.

Ben didn't question him, and did as he was told. The instructors walked around the crowded dropship ensuring that they were all wearing them correctly. Ben watched as some of them refused to have parachutes equipped. They were sent to the front of the dropship without second thought, away from the door, and were not given any further attention.

Once all of the kids willing to wear parachutes had them on, the dropships bay doors were opened and cold air flooded the compartment. Ben shivered at the sudden change in temperature, it was much colder than he had been expecting.

_Don't think, just act, and follow instructions._ Ben told himself, which did a decent job of calming his nerves. _We wouldn't be jumping if it wasn't safe... right?_

"Form a line, and take nice steady deep breaths! The oxygen's a lot thinner up here, so let's make this snappy!" The instructor yelled over the wind. The kids did as he asked.

"Good, now pay close attention!" The instructor howled over the wind. "I will now demonstrate the process of using a parachute!"

The instructor then explained how to open the parachute, using his own as an example. He repeated himself three times. The first time Ben got lost halfway through, but the second explanation cleared things up. He also explained that there was a grassy field they should attempt to land on once their parachute was deployed.

"Everyone got that?" The instructor asked after the third explanation. "Good, you're up first!" The instructor said tapping the kid on the front of the line on the shoulder. The kid looked over the edge, screamed in panic, and immediately ran back into the Pelican, where he cowered in the corner.

Ben only felt a tiny amount of sympathy for the kid, he had to have known this was going to be difficult. But at the same time, his own fears reminded him not to judge too harshly.

"Disappointing, next!" The instructor loudly commented, his face displaying not even an ounce of sympathy.

The second kid looked over the edge, and after a second's hesitation, she leapt into the sky. She rapidly vanished, and the instructor only watched her fall for a second before turning back towards the rest of them.

"That was an excellent jump, everyone, follow her example! You're up next kid!" The instructor said, patting the next kid on the shoulder, who waddled towards the edge and threw himself out of the Pelican.

_He didn't hesitate at all, how did he do that?_ Ben wondered, now inspired to perform similarly.

The line progressed until Ben was the one standing at the edge. Looking over the edge he peeked through the clouds, catching a brief glimpse of a small green square on the ground surrounded by thick forest. He promptly threw himself out of the Pelican without second thought or ceremony.

Ben then fell gracelessly for several seconds, spinning wildly out of control, tumbling in the air, for a brief, horrible moment, terror filled his mind. He had very little influence over his actions as the world seemed to zip by around him. His terror was interrupted as without warning he remembered what the instructor had said.

_Spread out your arms and legs. Make yourself as wide as possible, you'll tumble less._ Ben mentally repeated. Rather suddenly, his fall steadied out. He quickly stopped spinning and he could somewhat control himself.

_Next, the parachute. Pull the big cord._ Ben thought, before grabbing onto the cord with both hands and tugging it.

Nothing happened. For about thirty seconds he panicked as he fell uncontrollably, although he managed to keep himself from screaming out in distress. Not that it would have mattered, as the howling of the air around him would've drowned it out completely. Dread filled his mind as he realized that he was in very real danger of dying.

Suddenly, he remembered his reserve parachute. He grabbed the release cord for the primary parachute, and it exploded out of his bag on his back, knocking him back into a deadly spiral. He was thrown back into a panic for a few more seconds until he spread out his arms and legs as he had done earlier. Once he had regained his stability he pulled the reserve parachute cord, and much to his relief, it opened without fault. He felt a sudden painful jolt as his descent suddenly slowed to a crawl. The straps around his shoulders ached, probably from the sudden force.

Steering himself towards the intended landing site he could see a handful of other parachutes gliding through the air. He managed to reach the square and slammed knee first into the ground, which hurt quite a bit, and would probably develop into a nasty bruise. Ben struggled up to his feet until a poorly timed gust of wind caught his parachute and pulled him back to the ground and dragged him a few meters. Eventually he managed to untangle himself from his parachute and looked around to see the other kids making a much more graceful landing than he had.

_I guess I missed the instructions on how to land._ Ben thought bitterly as he sat on the ground, not sure what to do next. Eventually an instructor walked up to him before frowning at the parachute that was lying on the ground next to him.

"That's your reserve chute." The instructor quietly noted to himself, obviously surprised and with a hint of concern. "Cadet, did your primary parachute fail?"

"Yes." Ben simply said. He was more bitter at the parachute then the instructor, and he saw no reason to be angry at the man.

"Well shit, that's no good. Good job keeping yourself in one piece." The instructor said. "Any injuries?"

"My knee hurts, I think I landed badly." Ben said, the affected area starting to swell slightly.

The instructor gave the injury a quick inspection before coming to a conclusion. "You'll live, it'll swell for a few days, but it'll heal. Now, come on, you're going back to the parade grounds."

They walked for a long time, around half an hour, until they arrived back at the big field they had first been dropped off at. Ben realized the crowd of kids had shrunk by about a hundred people. As the crowd reformed, the man called Mendez tapped the microphone to get everyone's attention.

"To those of you who have completed the initiation, congratulations, you've completed the first step of your training." Mendez stated. "The rest of you will be sent back to where you were found. Should any of you choose to or fail in your training, you will also be sent back. Anyone who wants to do so, board the first three dropships to the left."

To Ben's absolute amazement, several of the kids did it. He didn't understand, they had volunteered for this, they had to know it would be difficult, so why would they back out? He swore to himself in that moment, he would never give them reason to remove him and that he would never back down on his own.

"Are you going to leave?" The instructor from before asked with a curious look on his face, noticing that Ben was watching the kids leaving.

"No, I'm staying." Ben answered, only receiving an

The instructor nodded to himself before looking back up at stage Mendez was standing on. Once all of the children who were going to leave had gone, there were still a couple hundred kids left standing.

"Well I'm afraid to be the bearer of bad news." Kurt said, supplanting Mendez on the microphone. "But we only have funding for 300 candidates, and there are slightly more of you than that. You will continue your training as normal for now, but the lowest scoring amongst you will be sent home as time goes on."

_That won't be me._ Ben promised himself.

"With that out of the way, let's continue on with some basic exercises. Chief Petty Officer Mendez will oversee your progress." Kurt said.

What followed was about an hour of grueling exercises. From push ups to pull ups to curl ups to squats. The instructors taught them how to properly do each exercise before running through each activity hundreds of times. Several kids threw up from over exertion, others passed out. Those who passed out were dragged off to the medical bay while the others continued. Seeing as Ben was only five, it was safe to say he was nowhere near ready for that level of exertion, but he did better than some of the other kids did. He stayed conscious, and managed to avoid throwing up, although he had a few close calls.

At long last they were done, and water was distributed by the instructors. Even though it was hot and unpleasant to swallow, it was certainly a relief. After the basics they went for a jog around the base, partly to continue their calisthenics and partly to introduce the students to the environment they would be staying for the next few years.

Ben picked out a few key sights during the jog. There were classrooms, training courses, and arenas for competitive matches. There was a lot more, but it all glazed over in his mind as exhaustion started to kick in towards the end of their run.

"Alright, two minute break, then we're beginning your first lesson!" Mendez shouted to the recruits.

After those two minutes the recruits were split up into groups of thirty and distributed into different classrooms. Once Ben was in one of the classrooms with a bunch of other kids they started a lesson about the Spartans of ancient Greece. Despite his exhaustion, Ben was enraptured by the lesson. Learning about how a small force held off overwhelming odds with strategic use of a choke point intrigued him a lot more than school ever had.

They also learned about other things, like the phonetic alphabet that had been in use for hundreds of years. The instructors also refreshed them on things that most of the kids already knew, like the regular alphabet and counting, as well as some basic math and how to read a clock.

_I guess no matter where I go, I'll never escape math._ Ben jokingly thought to himself, slightly delirious from exhaustion and hunger.

By the time they were done with their lessons, it was already starting to get late, all of the recruits were reunited in one big formation as they headed towards the mess hall for dinner.

To Ben's surprise, military food was actually tolerable. He'd heard several of the instructors complaining about what they were having for dinner, but it was fine to him. Maybe it was because by the time he ate he was absolutely starving, that and he'd always been a fan of meatballs.

Once they'd been fed the kids were led off to the barracks for the night. Ben was assigned the bottom bunk somewhat near the door, where he promptly fell asleep almost instantly.

**Camp Currahee, Main Overview Room**

**2230 Local Time, August 5th, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

"How'd we do Chief?" Kurt asked as he walked in with a mug of coffee for each of them. It was getting late, but neither of them would be resting tonight, there was too much to prepare for the next day.

Tom and Lucy were already setting up their ambush on the training course for the next day, supported by some of the washouts from Alpha and Beta Company.

"We did alright, nowhere near as good as alpha company, but they performed well enough for their first day." Mendez said.

"Any injuries?" Kurt asked.

"A couple kids passed out during PT, and another few got sprained ankles during the run." Mendez said. "The drop was the worst, a few broken legs, and we had a close call with one of the kids when his parachute failed."

"Wait, one of the chutes failed?" Kurt asked, suddenly horrified. "Why was I not told?"

"Not as bad as you think, his reserve deployed fine." Mendez said. "He landed fine, in fact, Instructor Miller said he didn't seem resentful at all."

"What was the kid's name?" Kurt asked.

"Benjamin, designation G021." Mendez said after double checking the report he had been given.

"I want to talk to him tomorrow once all the recruits are awake." Kurt said. "Work it into his schedule during academics, I'll be keeping it brief."

"Understood Sir." Mendez said with a nod. "I'll make some space."

"Thank you, now about that supply shipment..." Kurt began.

**Camp Currahee, Chemistry Laboratory #4**

**0921 Local Time, August 5th, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

Ben had quickly learned that the academic lessons were not to be ignored. Some of the kids were clearly using them as an opportunity to rest from the grueling exercises, but they would pay for that mistake, Ben would not. Even though his bones ached and his skin was flushed red from overexertion, he forced himself to pay attention to the instructor.

He was actually so focused on the lesson that it took the instructor poking him in the back of the head to get his attention. The instructor silently gestured towards the hallway, so Ben got out of his chair and followed the man out of the classroom.

"What's wrong Sir?" Ben asked once they were in the hallway.

"I am not a "Sir" Cadet, I am an Instructor, you will refer to me as such." The instructor replied dispassionately. "Lieutenant Commander Ambrose asked to speak with you, I will take you too him."

Ben decided to remain quiet after he recognized the name, Kurt was the Commanding Officer of the whole Program, and being summoned by him made Ben extremely nervous. He tried to think of anything he could have done to deserve getting kicked out, but came up empty. It took some time before they arrived at the Commander's office, when they did arrive there the instructor knocked on the door. A few seconds later the door opened, revealing Kurt.

"This is him, Sir." The instructor said as he gave Ben a push into the room.

"Thank you, Instructor Thompson." Kurt replied. "You may wait outside until we're done."

"Of course Sir." The instructor said before standing outside. Ben walked into Kurt's office as he shut the door.

Kurt returned to his desk and sat down. "Have a seat."

Ben did as he instructed, taking a seat in the chair in front of him.

"Am I in trouble, Sir?" Ben asked, unable to keep his nerves entirely out of his voice, despite his best efforts.

"No, I just had a few questions for you." Kurt mercifully answered. "Yesterday, when you did the paradrop, your parachute failed, is that correct?"

"It did." Ben confirmed as he silently sighed with relief, he wasn't getting kicked out after all.

_That's no reason to get lazy, it's only the second day, we might still mess this up yet._ Ben pessimistically thought.

"But you recovered, and you activated your backup parachute." Kurt said, obviously expecting some sort of response.

"Yes, I did." Ben replied, unsure as to what exactly Kurt wanted him to say.

"Instructor Miller said that you didn't feel angry that you were nearly killed by faulty equipment." Kurt continued, again, expecting some kind of statement.

"Well I was, but not at any of you." Ben replied, now starting to see where he was going.

Kurt raised his eyebrows in a sense of curiosity and surprise. "Explain."

"Well, it's not your fault my parachute broke, right?" Ben asked.

"That's correct, every chute was inspected for faults." Kurt confirmed. "Yours was just an outlier, all equipment can break."

"Well then, I don't see a point in getting mad at you, or anyone." Ben explained. "It wouldn't be fair if I got mad at you for something you didn't do."

"I see." Kurt replied, his curiosity now replaced with doubt. "And you didn't leave, even after nearly being killed, and given the chance to go back home."

"I'm not leaving." Ben simply responded. "I have no home to go home to, and even then, I want to fight the aliens."

"We all do Ben." Kurt sympathetically responded. "But why stay here? Surely you don't have to become a Spartan to fight the Covenant?"

Ben thought carefully for a moment before speaking. "No, I want to be a Spartan, I can do this."

"Hmm." Kurt thought to himself for a moment before speaking. "Thank you Ben, this has been enlightening. Instructor Thompson will take you back to class."

Ben simply nodded before leaving. While he went back to the classroom, Kurt waited, once they were out of earshot Kurt reached for his earpiece and tuned it to the Command frequency.

"Mendez come in, over." Kurt said.

"I read, go ahead." Mendez replied after a moment.

"I want an instructor assigned to G-021 for one on one training, preferably Instructor Miller if he's still available." Kurt said.

"This early on? Why?" Mendez said. "And yes, Richard is still available."

"Richard's the man for the job, he's been a handler for ONI agents in the past." Kurt said. "As for why... call it a hunch, we'll pull Richard back if I'm wrong."

"Understood, I'll make sure it's done." Mendez stated. He had learned to trust Kurt's sixth sense a long time ago.

"Thank you." Kurt said before stopping his transmission.

**Camp Currahee, Main Observation Room**

**0934 Local Time, August 5th, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

Richard had been called up to the Main Observation Room. He didn't know why, all he knew is that Mendez needed to speak with him about something. He arrived to find that the only person in the room was Mendez.

"Reporting as ordered Sir!" Richard snapped to attention.

"At ease, Instructor." Mendez said. "Wait here just a moment, would you?"

Richard did as he asked, and a few moments later, another Instructor led one of the Cadets into the room. It was the kid whose parachute had failed, Ben.

"Here he is Sir." The instructor said.

"Thank you Instructor Thompson, you may leave." Mendez stated, the Instructor offered a brief salute, before leaving. "Now, I've got a very busy day today, so let's make this quick, shall we?"

"What can we do for you Sir?" Richard asked.

Mendez looked him over, as if mentally examining him. "You're already familiar with Cadet G-021 here, right?"

"Yes Sir." Richard confirmed.

Mendez turned to face Ben. "Cadet."

He snapped into a salute immediately, although not only was his timing dramatically off, but he messed it up as well. Richard flinched, expecting to hear Mendez's wrath, instead, he just chuckled.

"You see Instructor Miller? They do learn quickly." Mendez commented with amusement. "Put your hand down Cadet, I'll let you get away with that exactly once, and only because we almost killed you on your first day."

"Thank you, Sir." Ben replied, letting his arm fall to his side.

_That wasn't mercy, he's luring him into a false sense of security for the training course later._ Richard quickly recognized, but he kept his mouth shut.

"Now, this is Instructor Richard Miller, I believe you've already met him, right?" Mendez asked.

"Yes Sir, I have." Ben answered.

"Good." Mendez said. "Instructor Miller has been placed directly in charge of your training, you will continue your training as normal for now."

_Directly in charge of his training?_ Richard thought, curious as to what exactly Mendez meant.

"Instructor, you are to keep an eye on G-021 and his future squadmates for the foreseeable future. You will have future instructions related to you, do you understand?"

"Yes Sir." Richard confirmed.

"Good, now take the Cadet back to his class, Chemistry Lab Four. Keep your earpiece tuned for further orders." Mendez instructed.

"Yes Sir." Richard replied. "Come on Cadet, let's get a move on."

They left the Observation Room, and after double checking his directions, Richard began heading towards the labs.

"Instructor Miller, Sir, may I ask you a question?" Ben interjected into the silence.

"Go ahead." He replied, curious as to what the kid had to say.

"Did I do something wrong?" The boy asked.

"I'm not sure, to be honest." Richard replied, not knowing why he had been assigned to assist with Ben's training. "I've learned that most of the time, when an Officer has a complaint about what you're doing, they typically let you know about it."

"That's good to know." Ben replied, seemingly making a concentrated effort to remember the bit of information.

_Hmm, I'm starting to see what Mendez meant by "They do learn quickly."_ Richard thought. "I imagine we'll figure it out at some point in the future, for now, let's just get you back to class."


	2. Chapter 2

**Onyx**   
**Camp Currahee, Physical Training Course #43**   
**1031 Local Time, August 21st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

The first few weeks of Ben's training were brutal. Most of his time was spent with the other Cadets in class or doing intensive physical training, it seemed like they did everything as part of a group. But as time went by, things were steadily getting easier as he got more familiar with military protocol and traditions, like acknowledging your orders vocally, and not speaking unless spoken to. He also began to understand exactly why it was so important, promoting clear communication and discipline. His body also began to harden under the rigorous exercise, which was gradually becoming easier.

He spoke with Richard at least once a day. Most of the time he would answer whatever questions that he had about what Ben was doing or being told, although Richard was far from Ben's only instructor, and he still had many other duties on top of training Ben. Richard turned out to be surprisingly empathetic and friendly, which gave Ben a sense of respect for him.

For the most part, Ben did as he was told, as any vocal dissent was commonly met with brutal punishment. Crucially, his instructors explained why he was wrong, which he almost always was in some manner. Despite his occasional failures, he found himself doing fairly well compared to some of the other recruits, and unlike some of the other students, he excelled in the academic courses.

By far the most interesting subject to him they learned about in class was the Spartan II's. Unlike him, they had no choice when it came to being soldiers, but by the end of their training, they were dedicated to what they were doing. Apparently they were truly humanities best, even above the Spartan III's in terms of their sheer combat prowess. The recruits were given access to declassified reports on what the Spartan 2's had achieved throughout their careers, and their track record was very impressive. Part of him wished he had been born a couple decades earlier, so that he could've been among them, but he was content with being second best.

Currently, he was taking part in a training exercise along with a team of other recruits. Their goal was to carry a small flag to the end of an obstacle course, a deceptively simple goal. The actual point of the course was learning to maneuver while under fire, which the Instructors enforced by firing on any clumsy or reckless recruits with their guns. The training rounds they fired were far from lethal, but the crystallizing paint they carried was designed to freeze the target in place, and they stung like hell when they hit.

“Come on, get up!” Ben yelled at his remaining teammate, who was sitting in the same crater as Ben, crying from a series of training rounds that had practically paralyzed his midsection.

“I can't!” He cried back. “I can't move!”

“We have a mission to complete!” Ben shouted back.

While Ben empathized with his teammate’s painful predicament, he also realized that the Cadet wasn’t going to be able to keep moving. One last time Ben tried to pull his teammate to his feet, but the recruit didn't budge.

“Fine, I'll finish the mission myself!” Ben said, his voice rich with frustration.

He stuck his head out of the crater to get his bearings, and narrowly dodged a training paint round as he tucked his head back in. Several more rapidly decorated the edge of the crater, giving him a firm warning to not try it again. Fleck of paint flew into his hair, although with how much had been shaved off of his head, he now had more mud and paint on his head than any of his natural brown hair.

_Well, I’m stuck._ Ben thought. _A solution isn’t going to come to me, I need to think of something._

His thinking was interrupted when a grenade landed in the dirt right in front of him, before rolling down the crater and onto his head. Thinking fast, Ben caught it as it bounced off of his forehead, before harshly tossing it back in the instructor's direction. The grenade exploded seconds later, and Ben heard screaming from the instructor's position as bits of rapidly-hardening paint flew through the sky.

_Huh, I guess that works._ Ben thought as he crawled out of the crater and continued making his way through the course with the flag. 

After only a couple meters he was struck by a ricocheting round that exploded on his shoulder. The force knocked him face-down into the mud, but he climbed back to his knees, before grabbing the flag with the arm that could still move, while ignoring the painful feeling from his now-rigid shoulder.

He and his team had already progressed most of the course, and only one last obstacle stood in his way, a field covered in razor wire. The wire was raised by a series of wooden supports, offering barely enough room to crawl under it. He dropped into a prone position and grabbed the flag between his teeth, he would need his remaining arm to be free to crawl safely.

He nudged forward, trying to ignore the mud that got into his mouth. His uniform got snagged onto the barbed wire, which he managed to free, but tore his uniform in the process. He persisted onwards, trying to avoid the densest clusters of the wiring.

One final obstacle came in the form of another stray training round, which struck him in the back, and knocked the wind out of him. Ben pressed himself as flat as he could, before allowing himself a moment to rest and catch his breath. One he had, he pushed onwards, slowed even further by his newly-reduced maneuverability.

He finally crawled out of the barbed wire, roughly got to his feet, and inelegantly affixed the flag to the target pole. A whistle sounded, signifying the exercise was over. Ben let out a sigh of relief, it was over.

As all of the kids got back together at the start of the course, and those who were encased in training paint were liberated by the Instructors, Ben was approached by Mendez.

“Hold still!” Mendez shouted, before spraying Ben down with a jet of ice-cold water. He gave a cry of surprise as Mendez blasted the mud and paint off, along with a bit of blood and ample amounts of sweat. Once Mendez had finished, he sprayed Ben one last time in the face. “My mistake Cadet, I thought you had something on your face, turns out it was skin.”

_Bastard._ Ben bitterly thought, although at least Mendez seemed to find something to hate in everything.

“Goddamn Cadet, I had the common decency to give you a uniform, and look what you’ve done to it!” Mendez shouted, once he got a look at Ben’s uniform. “Not only that, but I think you're missing something critical to the mission! Identify what you’re missing here, Cadet!”

Ben thought for a minute, but couldn’t figure out what he was referencing. “I don’t know, Sir!”

Mendez sprayed him again, right in the gut, causing him to double over. Ben was already drenched, but now he was freezing. “Your teammate, Cadet! Although I will admit, it was hard to find them under all the dirt and paint that you left them buried under!”

Ben recognized the false impression that Mendez wanted a response. He had already learned the hard way that if Mendez wanted you to speak, he would tell you too.

Mendez glared at him stubbornly. “What went through your mind as you put that flag into the ground, Cadet?!”

“I completed the mission, Sir!” Ben replied.

“At what cost recruit?” Mendez angrily asked. “If this were on the battlefield, you would have just left a Spartan in the dirt to die, and that is not what any soldier should do, let alone a Spartan! Now, I want you to sprint down to the bottom of the hill, and sprint your way back up. Once that’s done, exchange your uniform and head for class!”

_That’s about two kilometers._ Ben realized, dreading the long walk up the hill while already exhausted. “Sir yes Sir!”

As he ran, he came to a realization. Every lesson he had done so far had a lesson, which was deliberately and clearly explained to every participating recruit, often while they were still covered in mud and sweat. This time had been different, Mendez had told him what he did wrong, and left him to run, which left him with a question.

_What was I supposed to do in that situation?_ Ben thought.

**Camp Currahee**   
**1240 Local Time, August 21st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

_You know, for a Drill Instructor, I sure spend a lot of time on my ass._ Richard thought, as he waited for Lieutenant Commander Ambrose to be finished with his meeting. He still didn’t regret making the decision to become an Instructor, as it was a hell of a lot better than his back-end desk job at ONI. Working with Ben was also more productive than shredding the paperwork of some other Spook’s wet work. Although his other duties meant that he still had plenty to do.

Richard found the kid to be a lot more tolerable than he would’ve thought otherwise, probably because he demonstrated a surprising amount of critical thinking, albeit accompanied by some lapses in logic that were inherent in most children. Richard found himself making mental comparisons between the children and the other Instructors quite frequently, as they tended to behave similarly. But with all of humanity’s best on the frontline, it wasn’t surprising that so many of the Spartan’s trainers were a bit past their prime. None of the other Instructors seemed horribly bothered by what they were doing. He didn’t find the morality of the whole program much of an issue himself, which made him worry if he was starting to get numb to ONI’s doings.

_That’s why you transferred out, that’s why you’re here now, we’re done with that._ Richard thought as he kicked his memories into the deepest recesses of his mind. _Maybe there’s a reason that all of the other Instructors drink so much..._

He forced himself to move on, to focus on the task at hand, before remembering that he had none. Kurt hadn’t even made it clear what it was that he wanted to discuss, although it wasn’t hard to guess he wanted to discuss Ben’s training. In Richard’s opinion, the kid was doing well, certainly better than some of the other Cadets, although he wasn’t without his faults.

Firstly, he seemed to take orders a bit too literally, and not realize his own physical limitations. But far more problematic was his performance in team exercises. He would frequently miss the point of the 'team' in team exercises, and go off on his own. Frequently he would complete the mission, but at costs deemed unacceptable.

But the thing that Richard found most interesting about Ben was his dedication. He'd only been part of the program for a couple of weeks, and already he explained to Richard that he felt more at home then anywhere else he'd been. His loyalty was unquestionable, and the only times he ever disagreed with his instructors was when he thought they were being inefficient or simply mistaken, which the Instructors didn’t take horribly kindly too.

_It's a little weird how well he's settling in, even if he’s got a bit of maturity to him, he’s still a kid._ Richard thought, before the door to Kurt's office opened and an Army Colonel he didn’t recognize walked out of the room.

“We'll have to continue this debate later, I'm ten minutes late for another meeting, farewell Lieutenant Ambrose.” The man said to Kurt, before continuing down the hallway.

“Come in, Instructor.” Kurt said once the man had left.

Richard took a seat before the man, the Lieutenant was still something of an enigma to Richard, seeming to have a lot going on inside his head. “You asked to speak with me, Sir?”

“I did.” Kurt confirmed. “I wanted to ask how Ben has been doing, and how well you get along with each other.”

“We get along just fine.” Richard stated. “The kid's smarter than most of the Marines, it's actually a little weird."

“I see.” Kurt said with a nod. “What about his performance?”

“He's excelling in both his training and his academic courses.” Richard said. “Of particular note he scored top marks on his history lessons, and he seems particularly determined to complete his objectives.”

“That's good.” Kurt said, although his tone implied otherwise. “What about his failures at his team-based exercises?”

“No improvement so far.” Richard grudgingly admitted.

That put a frown on Kurt's face, and Richard understood why. Teamwork was incredibly important to Spartans in general, but it was especially important for Spartan IIIs. Due to their lesser armor, they had to rely on the rest of their squad to avoid taking hits.

“Where is he on the roster?” Kurt asked.

“He's at the very bottom in terms of teamwork, along with some of the other kids.” Richard answered. Even if he believed in the kid, he wasn’t going to sugarcoat his faults.

“Teamwork is incredibly important, I'm not sure we should keep him in the program, we’re already reaching our budget’s limit.” Kurt said warily.

“In my honest opinion Sir, that would be a dramatic waste.” Richard argued. “His dedication is unmatched, and so is his potential.”

_And I'm not just saying that to save my career, he's got the makings of a good soldier, he just needs some guidance!_ Richard reassured himself.

“Dedication and potential aren't going to cover his blindspots in a gunfight.” Kurt pointed out.

_He’s only a little over two weeks into training._ Richard fought the urge to reply, well aware that Kurt was looking for answers, not excuses.

“But...” Kurt continued. “We'll give him another month, we will see if he still has potential.” 

Richard gave a sigh of relief. "Thank you Sir, you won't regret this."

Kurt nodded. “For now I want Ben to continue his usual training, let me know if anything changes regarding his performance. Should he fail to improve, I'll try to find another option for him. But if I can't...”

“I understand.” Richard said, happy that both he and Ben were getting a second chance. “I'll do my best to improve his coordination with his teammates."

“Do your best, you're dismissed.” Kurt instructed.

**Camp Currahee, Mess Hall**   
**1334 Local Time, August 21st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

Ben and Richard were having their daily talk as they ate. They had wrapped up talking about his academics and were moving onto his exercises and physical training. Richard noted he looked slightly taller, no doubt aided by the growth supplements in his food. But eventually, Richard was forced to bring up the hard topic.

“Ben, you need to stop lagging behind in the team exercises.” Richard chastised. "It's severely impacting your grades, as well as your future participation in the program."

“It’s not me! It’s my teammates!” Ben protested. “They can’t keep up with me!”

Richard grated his teeth, before giving an angry retort. “That’s beneath you Ben! Shoving your faults onto others fixes nothing, not for you, or your teammates!”

“I swear in this one case it’s true! I couldn’t get my squadmate out of the crater, so I... I had to complete-” Ben began, trying to explain.

“You left a man behind, don’t ever leave a man behind.” Richard sternly interrupted. "Excuses are worthless, the best thing you can do is learn from this."

Ben looked to the ground for a moment, before finding his voice again. “What do you think I should have done?”

_Good, he has the right mindset._ Richard thought before answering. “You could have either stayed with them until they recovered enough to continue, which admittedly would have jeopardized your mission. Or, you could have carried them to the end.” 

“I’m not strong enough to do that.” Ben admitted.

“Not yet.” Richard reassured, placing his hand on the boy's shoulder. “But you will be, give it some time.”

“What do I do until then?” Ben asked after a moment's hesitation.

"The same thing you've been doing, learn, train, and do your best." Richard simply answered.

**One month later**   
**Arena #1**   
**1423 Local Time, August 24st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

Ben sat in an instacrete bunker with what was left of his team, trying to catch his breath. He had his teammates were the only survivors of a gruesome ambush, which had ripped their twelve-man unit down to three people. His squad leader, Holly-G003, had just enough time to give the order to retreat, before the opposing Cadets had knocked her unconscious with a training round to the back of the helmet.

Running was beginning to prove difficult, as the Cadets were loaded down with heavy equipment, meant to simulate running in what the UNSC designated “maximum effective combat load”. Ben had pointed out the bunker to his remaining squadmates, Gus-G401, and Dante-G198, who had thankfully followed him. The bunker had three separate entrances, and was purposefully designed to be difficult to cover alone.

“How’s the leg?” Dante asked, referring to the glancing hit that Gus had suffered during the ambush.

“Fine.” Gus answered, although it was obvious he wouldn’t be going anywhere with his leg partially locked in place.

“Bullshit, we’re stuck here...” Dante muttered. “Ben, what do we do?”

“Why are you asking me?” Ben asked, trying to keep his eyes and ears open for his opponents.

“You’re second in command, remember? And Holly’s down, so you're in charge now.” Dante pointed out.

Ben thought for a minute on how to proceed, examining his teammates and what equipment they had left, before coming to a conclusion.

“We’re weakened, we'll play defensively, and hold this bunker.” Ben said as he inspected the training rifle he’d been given. “Both of you, grab an entrance and keep it secure.”

“That’s a terrible plan.” Gus critically commented. "How are we supposed to get the drop on them?"

“I’m not so sure, it could work.” Dante said. "If we ambushed them, maybe we could pull something off?"

“They’d have to come to us first.” The first one said. “Otherwise we’d just be sitting in a bunker while everyone else wins.”

“Hmmm.” Ben said as he thought. “What if we fire off a few shots? Then the enemy will know where we are.”

“Now we’re talking.” Dante said firing a few shots down one of the entryways, causing Gus to panic, as he hadn’t seen it coming. "That was... louder, than I expected."

“Jesus Christ, why did you do that?” Gus yelled. “We should have planned our ambush before we called them all to us!”

The two Cadets started bickering with one another, debating who should have done what and when. Ben decided to ignore them and took a position just outside one of the entrances to the bunker, well aware that the enemy would be on their way to investigate the sound of the gunshots.

The first enemy Cadet who was approached apparently heard his bickering teammates, and tried to sneak up on them. He did not see Ben, who promptly shot him in the back of the helmet, which quickly rendered him unconscious. He dragged the recruit out of the doorway, and into the bunker, so that the enemy wouldn’t know where he had taken his shot from.

“Goddamn Ben, nicely done!” Dante said as Ben came back inside. His two teammates had their rifles trained on the doorway, obviously expecting him not to have come back after the gunfire.

“Shut up and watch the other doors!” Ben said in response.

To his surprise, the recruits did as he asked, watching the other two entrances to the bunker. They managed to eliminate another two unsuspecting Cadets before they stopped coming. As he was dragging the second back into the bunker, Ben made a realization.

“Wait a moment, this is Leo, he’s from Squad Three...” Ben noted. “The one I shot earlier was from Squad Four.”

“What does that mean?” Ben’s Gus asked, not deviating from his firing position.

“It means their ganging up on us.” Dante answered, apparently coming to the same conclusion Ben had.

“That’s unfair! That’s gotta be cheating.” Gus complained.

“Do you think Mendez cares?” Ben asked rhetorically. “He’d tell us to quit bitching and fight.”

“I... yeah, that does sound like what he'd say." Gus conceded.

"The Covies ain't gonna play fair, neither should you." Dante said in a mocking impression of Mendez, which Ben was too busy focusing to criticize.

Their conversation was interrupted when a\ grenade rolled into the bunker, which Ben moved to kick back out of the bunker. While he was successful, one of the enemy Cadets must have acquired a shot on him, as they shot him in the knee, coating it in a painful layer of rapidly crystallizing paint. Ben didn’t see what happened outside the Bunker as the grenade exploded outside, as he was too busy pushing himself back into safety with his remaining leg.

He turned to face the abundant gunfire that was coming from Dante and Gus, and found they were both shooting down their respective tunnels at targets he couldn’t see. Ben tried to position himself to help, but found himself unable to stand on his own.

“Dante, give me a hand here!” Ben shouted.

“I’m a little-” Dante tried to respond, but got shot in the gut. As he doubled over, another round struck him in the top of the head, knocking him unconscious.

Gus turned his head to see his teammate fall to the ground, and made the critical mistake of pausing his stream of gunfire. The enemy Cadet he was fighting seized the opportunity, and placed enough rounds into his chestpiece to knock him down.

Oh well, another loss. Ben thought, before the enemy approaching him from behind put a bullet into the back of his helmet, making everything go black.

**Lieutenant Commander Ambrose’s Office**   
**1423 Local Time, August 24st, 2545 UNSC Military Calendar**

Richard felt a sense of Deja Vu as he sat in Kurt's office, discussing Ben's progress, or rather, lack thereof.

“Ben has made some improvement, but it’s not enough.” Kurt noted, reading through various reports on Ben's progress. “I had hoped for more substantial results.”

“I did as well, I don't know what to say.” Richard admitted. “He excels at everything when he does it alone, but when placed in a team environment with other Cadets, he makes some kind of critical mistake.”

Kurt nodded, and there was an awkward silence before Richard asked the question they were both thinking about.

“Are you going to kick him out of the program?” Richard cautiously asked.

“No.” Kurt bluntly answered. “Admittedly I considered it, but you were right. We shouldn’t throw a Cadet like him out, it’s a waste of a good soldier.”

Richard was torn between being confused and relieved. "What did you have in mind, Sir?"

Kurt sighed. “The Marine Corps is being a bit stingy with the funding for the Mark 2 SPI armor. I think I can convince them to cough it up if I give them another Spartan. It's a roundabout solution that I believe would solve both problems."

“You're taking Ben out of the main company?” Richard guessed.

_As a side effect, that should dramatically increase his lifespan._ Richard thought, well aware of the missions that the Spartan III’s typically undertook.

Kurt gave a nod of confirmation. “He'd work with Marines on the ground, and probably special forces. I imagine he'd work better with them, because they would better suit his more aggressive nature."

“I see.” Richard said, now understanding. “Was that all?”

"Not quite. You may tell Ben that his continued training is secured, and you will be receiving some slightly revised training guidelines to fit his new role.” Kurt answered. “There is another matter I may need to discuss with you both at a later date, but for now, it’s not your concern.”

“I understand.” Richard said. “And Sir? Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me, thank the UNSC Marine Corps. Because they’re a bunch of stubborn asses.” Kurt jokingly replied. “Still, this is going to ensure that the rest of the Company gets upgrades to their armor, so that’s certainly a relief.”

_And that presumably includes Ben._ Richard thought. “Was that all, Sir?”

“That was all, you’re dismissed Instructor.” Kurt answered.


	3. Chapter 3

**One month later**   
**Onyx, Camp Currahee**   
**1530 Local Time, September 10th, 2545 Military Calendar**

Ben's training continued to go well, he excelled at his academics, and his exercises were going better than ever. Today, he turned six years old, but birthdays were only significant for statistics in the Spartan 3 program. Some time ago, he would have been somewhat upset, insulted even, but no longer. Richard did manage to get him a bowl of ice cream once he found out that it was Ben’s birthday, which was certainly appreciated. When he asked where Richard had gotten it he had simply replied “I have my connections.”.

His altered training schedule didn’t change as much as he thought it would. His exercises were the same, as were much of his academics, but the tactics he learned about were far more offensive in nature. He learned about High-Value Target Elimination, the operation of Naval Weaponry, and what little the UNSC knew about the inner-workings of Covenant technology. He didn't understand the politics behind his assignment to the Marine Corps, but it didn't bother him, as long as he got a chance to serve, he was content. Apparently, he was meant to be an inspiring figurehead on the frontline, and a way to boost morale, by showing the men and women on the frontline that they were not alone.

Today was different from the average day, as had undergone a brief surgery Ben The doctors explained that his neural interface required an upgrade. Once it was done his neural interface was more streamlined and simple, and there was a small port in the back of his head, almost like an outlet.

_It's going to be hell trying to get dirt out of there unless I can find something to cover it. _Ben thought._ I wonder why nobody else got the upgrades, maybe they already have them?_

Another oddity was that Lieutenant Commander Ambrose wanted to speak with them again. He and Richard were waiting at the entrance to Kurt's office, with no idea how long they would be waiting. In the meantime, Richard told a story from when he was part of the Office of Naval Intelligence.

“So a long time ago, I was the Commander of this little Prowler, named the Sequestered Thought.” Richard said. “We were doing some sneaky classified business that I’m not allowed to talk about. What I can tell you, however, is that the poor guy in charge of maintaining our cryogenics was criminally under-supplied.”

Ben didn't see where it was going, but he kept listening. Richard liked to tell stories and Ben liked to listen. It was refreshing to hear about the outside world every now and then, even if Richard didn’t like talking about the civilian world. Even though Ben wouldn’t trade his place for anything, it sometimes became hard to remember anything but his training.

“Every day while we were out on our missions he would send in requisitions for new parts.” Richard continued. “Unfortunately, a Prowler that’s running dark at all times is really hard to resupply. Eventually I sat down with the guy and told him that I had no way to get him what he needed.”

Ben nodded, giving the indication he was still listening.

“The man was irritated, but I think he realized it wasn't my fault I couldn't get what he needed.” Richard continued. “Unfortunately it turned out he really needed those parts, because the refrigeration unit was fried, and all of our ingredients went along with it.”

“So, what did you eat?” Ben asked.

“Emergency survival ration bars." Richard said with a groan of frustration. "The poor bastard ended up requesting a transfer planetside, and I can’t say I blame him. "Moral of the story is this, don’t ever leave home without everything you’ll need in the field, you’ll end up regretting it if you don’t.”

“Understood.” Ben said with a nod of understanding. He'd gone without food before at some of the orphanages he'd lived at, and it was awful, even with the survival bars that kept most people alive. That was one of the major perks of the Spartan program, they kept him well fed. In fact, he was considerably taller than when he started the program, likely due to all of the growth supplements in the food.

As soon as Richard's story was over, the door to Kurt's office opened and another recruit walked out by herself, her expression was unreadable as she walked by, but she seemed happy enough.

“Come in.” Kurt said, Richard and Ben did as he ordered, and sat down in the chairs in front of his desk.

Ben had learned a little bit more about Kurt, as he was one of the Spartan IIs they learned about in their classes. He was one of the most renowned Spartans, which explained why he was in charge of training the Spartan IIIs.

“What's the occasion Sir?” Richard asked.

“I believe I have found a... partial solution to Ben's teamwork deficiency.” Kurt said, looking at the boy in question, as if trying to read his reaction.

Ben didn't argue, he thought about in the past, but quickly realized that Kurt was right. Pouting would get him nowhere, so instead he just sat and braced himself for further criticism, holding his expression steady. But Kurt being right didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“I thought we already decided he would operate with the Marines?" Richard asked.

“We did.” Kurt confirmed. “However I found another way to help Ben in the field.”

Ben perked up a little, evidently Kurt had something else on his mind.

“What did you have in mind?” Richard asked, he also seemed more interested.

“I've decided to assign Ben an A.I.” Kurt explained.

Ben was immediately confused. Some of his instructors were A.I, giving him some idea of their capabilites. They could think very rapidly, and 

“An A.I?” Ben responded, although even he wasn’t entirely sure what kind of answer Kurt could give him.

“Is it smart or dumb?” Richard asked, referring to the two kinds of A.I.

“She's a fragment, made out of a smart A.I.” Kurt answered, which only added onto Ben’s confusion.

“A fragment?” Richard asked, his face expressed a mild amount of doubt, which quickly spread to Ben. “Where did it come from?”

“I’m afraid that’s above your paygrade.” Kurt replied. “But where she came from isn’t as important as what she can do. It is my belief that Ben could use some form of technical assistance in the field, as well as someone to watch his back.”

“I see.” Richard said, but Ben still wasn’t sure he fully understood.

“What do you mean?” Ben asked. “How can someone without a body help in a gunfight?”

Kurt seemed somewhat disappointed. “I would encourage you to think a bit more creatively, Cadet. In the fields of cyberwarfare and intel-assessment, A.I are unparalleled. Maybe she can’t hold a weapon, but you don't need a weapon in the first place if you vent your enemy into the vacuum of space.”

Ben nodded, now he was starting to see the potential. “I believe I understand.”

“That’s good, I would encourage you to discuss it with her sometime in the future.” Kurt said. “What I see as equally important however, is that this will teach you to work with someone who may have a different mindset than you. There's not much difference between a smart A.I and a human, so it should give you some fresh perspective.” 

Ben had to admit, he was now intrigued by the capabilities an A.I could have in combat. In truth, some of Kurt’s words didn’t make a lot of sense to him, but he was grasping the general concept fairly well. But if he was going to be partners with this A.I, he'd want to talk to her.

“When will I get to meet this A.I?” Ben asked.

“Whenever you are ready, she's currently in standby mode in the holotank.” Kurt said gesturing at the device in the corner of the room.

“Is there anything I should know before I meet her?” Ben asked.

“There are a couple things, yes.” Kurt said reaching into his desk and pulling out a metal device. "This is a piece of extremely expensive and experimental technology. This serves as a far smaller A.I transportation device then we've ever been able to use, and it plugs directly into your neural interface."

“Can an A.I really do that?” Ben asked, rubbing his newly upgraded implant. He now understood why he had received it.

“Certainly, although in the past, you had to either use a large and bulky cable, or plug the A.I directly into the body. Both options are impractical for military use, so this advance in technology should prove quite helpful." Kurt explained, handing over the device. “It’s also very expensive, so be careful with it.”

Ben took the device and examined it. The datachip was deceptively simple, although he imagined it’s technicalities were far more complex than it’s simple design revealed. “Will she be able to control my body?”

“No, that’s not been a concern since the earliest days of neural implants.” Kurt replied. “Even still, I think you’ll find she’s not a very controlling person.”

“That's a relief.” Ben said. "What's her name?"

“Her name is Curie.” Kurt answered. “For some added background, she's been active for around a month, and she was transferred to us only around a day ago. She's what is considered a “stable” fragment, meaning she has an effectively unlimited lifespan. She also has about half of the processing power of your average Smart A.I, which is still quite a lot.”

“A smart A.I with an unlimited lifespan?” Ben asked. What he'd learned about smart A.I's was that they were very capable, but they had a limited lifespan, which was their greatest weakness.

“Some researchers speculate that A.I fragments like Curie have a limit to their lifespan, but if there is one, it's long enough that it hasn't been discovered yet.” Kurt explained.

So, nobody knows, but it’s an educated guess. Ben mentally concluded. “I think I understand.”

“Now, are you ready?” Kurt asked.

“I am.” Ben replied, out of the corner of his vision, he saw Richard also give a brief nod.

“Ok, let me have that chip back for a moment.” Kurt instructed, Ben complied.

Kurt stood up and walked over to the holotank in the corner of the room, before entering a code on the touchpad. After a couple of seconds, a hologram of an A.I appeared before him, illuminating his silhouette in light blue light. Once he moved out of the way Ben got his first look at her.

The A.I was a lighter shade of blue, and took the form of an adult woman. She had short, dark hair, and a very friendly expression. Her clothing consisted of a plaid shirt ,with long, rolled-up sleeves and a pair of jeans, as well as a simple set of sneakers.

_Huh, I was expecting someone a bit less..._ civilian. Ben thought, not quite sure what to make of her.

"Running startup diagnostic... done." she said in an accent that Ben did not recognize, before seemingly snapping out of her thoughts. "Ah, hello again, Monsieur Kurt."

“Hello again Curie. If you'll give me a minute let's make sure you still have your bearings.” Kurt said.

They spent about a minute making sure the holotank she was in was functioning correctly, before going through the basics of making sure she was registering everything around her correctly, as well as making sure all of her internal subroutines were running well. As she spoke, Ben kept trying to place what kind of accent she had, but it was beyond his knowledge. She certainly seemed friendly enough.

“Well, I think you’re fully operational Curie.” Kurt said. "Let's do some brief introductions. You already remember me, right?”

"Oui, you are Lieutenant Commander Kurt-051, or Ambrose." Curie confirmed. "However, I do not recognize you two."

“I am Instructor Richard Miller.” Richard said with a nod.

“I'm Benjamin G-021.” Ben said. He'd been instructed his last name was only important for paperwork, and to use his service number instead.

“G-021?” Curie asked. “What an unusual last name, how curious.”

_I'm not sure if I should be offended or not._ Ben thought. “It's my service number.” Ben clarified.

“You have one too?” Curie asked, seemingly surprised. "I have not heard of humans with numerical designations."

“Good, now that everyone has been introduced, let's get down to business.” Kurt said, plugging in the datachip he had shown Ben earlier. “Curie, you should have a briefing package somewhere in that chip, Instructor Miller and Ben are already familiarized with it.”

“I do.” Curie said, her hologram flickering for a brief moment. “I have also familiarized myself with the material."

"That was... fast." Ben said, somewhat impressed. 

"A.I's are a lot faster than we are, Smart A.Is even moreso." Richard explained. "What we feel as a second is like a full minute to them."

“Do not worry, monsieur Benjamin.” Curie reassured. “From what I have read, I will have plenty of time to teach you about A.Is.”

“As long as it doesn't get in the way of training, I don't have a lot of free time." Ben said, trying not to sound standoffish.

“Helping you with your training is an alpha level priority, your further education on A.I will be considered a... Kilo level priority. Well, I'm sure we'll get around to it sometime.” Curie said, recognizing that a Kilo level priority was pretty far down on the priority ladder.

“Curie, I have a question for you.” Richard said. “What are your combat certifications?”

“My software packages are updated and ready for cyberwarfare.” Curie answered, with a surprising degree of formality. “Given a transmitter and a connection to a suitable target, I can disable just about any firewall.”

“Interesting.” Richard noted. “And what do you think of this assignment? Working with Ben?”

“I will admit at first my morals were conflicted, I am not in agreement with children being forced into fighting roles.” Curie admitted, which made Ben somewhat worried. “But I have been thoroughly convinced what we are doing here is necessary, we will complete our mission. It helps that Monsieur Ben has volunteered for this duty.”

_That’s good, I don’t need to worry about a conflict of interest._ Ben thought, Richard also gave a nod of satisfaction with her answer.

“If it makes you feel any better Curie, I felt the same way when I was conscripted into the Spartan II program.” Kurt admitted. "I had my doubts at first, but now, I don't regret it one bit."

“That does make me feel better about my doubts, thank you Lieutenant Ambrose.” Curie replied with a now-reassured smile.

“No problem at all Curie. Let's get back on track, are there any questions the briefing didn't cover that I can answer for you?” Kurt asked.

“Just one.” Curie said. “The estimated length of the assignment is blank, is that an error?”

“That's because this assignment is, for all intensive purposes, permanent.” Kurt said. “Unless you and Ben don't work well together that is, which would make this assignment considered a failure.”

“I have read all of Monsieur Benjamin's personnel file, and can conclude a ninety-three percent compatibility rate.” Curie reassured. "I will do my very best to ensure mission success.”

_I wonder how you calculate something like that. _Ben thought. _Either way, her priorities are certainly where they should be, that's good._

“Those were all of my concerns, I am ready whenever everyone else is.” Curie said.

"Excellent.” Kurt replied. “Sort yourself for a complete transfer, you should find this datachip sufficient.”

“I am ready, go ahead.” Curie said. Kurt removed Curie's datachip, before walking over and handing it to Ben, who held it in both hands. The crystalline storage component glowed with the same shade of light blue as her hologram.

“Now remember Ben, Curie's a lot more than just another piece of equipment. She is now a part of your team, and you're a part of hers.” Kurt instructed firmly. “Do not under any circumstance let her fall into harm's way, keeping her safe is now your permanent top priority, this supersedes any and all other orders you are given, do you understand?”

“I won't let you down, Sir.” Ben unwaveringly replied, before taking Curie’s chip and delicately inserting it into the port of his neural interface.

The feeling was unlike anything he had ever felt. The best way he could describe it was as if he splashed a bucket of cold water down his neck. That same feeling steadily creeped into the back of his head, which came to halt suddenly before the feeling became less intense, becoming oddly calming.

“Hello, can you hear me?” A familiar accented voice said, almost as if it was in his thoughts.

“I can, how did you do that?" Ben asked aloud, which seemed amusing to Kurt for some reason.

“I simply sent a signal to your neural lace, which translated it to sound that mimics my voice.” Curie explained. “I am glad to see that it has functioned correctly.”

“I take it that everything is working well?” Kurt asked.

“I believe so.” Ben confirmed. "I'm good to go, what about you Curie?"

“I am, I almost have everything as it should be, except for...” she began, before he heard her voice coming from slightly behind him. “-There, I have configured the datachip’s speaker to my liking. I am ready to begin my duties, Lieutenant.”

“Very well, you’re all dismissed." Kurt said before turning to Richard “Instructor, keep me informed on their progress."

Both of them offered a salute to Kurt, before leaving, they had much to do.

**Four years later**   
**Camp Currahee**   
**August 23rd, 1940 Standard time, 2549 Military Calendar**

Chief Petty Officer Mendez jogged into the observation Tower, where he saw Instructor Miller and Lieutenant Commander Kurt standing at one of the terminals. He’d noticed that one of the Arenas was being prepped for a match, and it seemed like it was something everyone wanted to see. Richard looked nervous, and Kurt’s attention was fixed solely on the terminal, in a deep focus that he rarely found elsewhere.

“Commander? Do you have any idea what’s going on?” Mendez asked. “It seems like half of the damn base is headed to Arena Seven.”

“We have a match taking place.” Kurt explained. “And once you hear the details, you'll understand why everyone wants to see it.”

“Nothing is scheduled today in any of the arenas, who's participating?” Mendez asked as he approached the terminal to see for himself.

“Ben versus Fireteam Broadsword.” Richard said, concern evident in his voice.

Mendez shook his head. "I must have misheard you, what did you just say?"

“It's a one versus five.” Kurt confirmed his fears. "I approved it."

“What the hell, why would you do that?!” Mendez asked, more than a little annoyed.

“Apparently there's some bad blood between Broadsword and Benjamin related to their academics, so rather than letting it fester...” Kurt explained.

“-Let them beat it out of each other.” Mendez completed his sentence. “I see where you're coming from, maybe it'll teach Ben a lesson in humility as well.”

“The kid's hardly boisterous.” Richard protested in defense of his friend.

“I’m aware, but it's a lesson everyone needs from time to time. Even the most humble person starts getting cocky after a while, and a swift kick in the teeth sets you right back to normal.” Mendez said, reminding the Instructor of his mindset. "Why were they even angry at each other, shouldn’t they hardly be talking to one another?"

“Apparently Broadsword has been accusing Curie of helping Ben with math, saying it's unfair.” Kurt explained. “It only escalated from there, this has been a long time coming.”

Mendez only nodded. "What about you Richard? What's your take on all of this?"

"Well, you already know Curie hasn't been helping him cheat, so I believe he's on the right side of this." Richard answered.

“...And the match?” Mendez pressed.

Richard gave a nervous nod. “...I’m not looking forward to the results. He’s gotten good, no doubt about it, but a one versus five? I just hope he doesn’t get hurt...”

**Arena Seven**   
**Locker room**

As Ben loaded his M90 shotgun full of training paint shells and donned his protective padding around his more vital areas, he listened to Curie try to talk him down. The equipment that would have once weighed him down was child's play, the firearm a familiar tool, not an intimidating figure.

“Ben, it is okay, you don't need to fight this battle.” Curie calmly said. “I certainly appreciate you sticking up for me, but really, you don’t have to do this.”

“You're right Curie, I don't need to, I simply want too.” Ben replied with the same calm tone. While his own personal pride also played a role in his decision, as he was greatly insulted by Fireteam Broadsword’s accusations, he also felt a duty to defend the pride of his friend as well.

Curie sighed at his predictable answer. “Just so you know, I calculate a fifty-five percent chance of you being badly injured during this battle.”

“That's because you aren't taking into account my plan.” Ben explained. "I've thought this out, but I'm going to need your help is this is going to work."

“While I still think this is a bad idea, I am listening.” Curie said, sounding slightly more hopeful.

“Good. The arena has a series of cameras used to monitor the matches, I need you to infiltrate them and monitor the enemies positions.” Ben explained. “That way, we can get the drop on them, even the odds a little.”

“Isn't that against the rules?” Curie asked, now sounding worried. To be fair, she had good reason to be worried, he would probably get punished for this. But at the same time, he had his reasons, and he was willing to accept the consequences.

“Almost certainly.” Ben affirmed. "But like Mendez says, the Covenant won't play fair, so we shouldn't either."

She was silent for a moment, before speaking again. “Alright, I am done, I do not believe I was detected.”

“Good, keep your eyes open, and let me know what they’re moves are. I’ll try to do the rest.” Ben said.

“Understood, I can do that.” Curie affirmed. “I am ready when you are.”

With all of his armor affixed, his weapon loaded and ready to fire, and his grenades ready to throw, he was ready. Moments later, there was a buzz on the intercom, before Kurt’s voice sounded throughout the room.

“Are both teams ready?” he asked, his voice altered by the speakers.

_I can't believe that he approved this match, but I'm glad he did._ Ben thought, as he gave a thumbs up to the nearest camera.

“Alright, the match will begin in three, two, one... begin!” Kurt stated.

The door opened and Ben ran through into the arena, he knew he had at least sixty seconds before any of the hostile recruits had a shot on him, as they would need time to cross the arena. His planning was crucial, mindless violence did not exist to a Spartan, and he would use every second he had to the best of his ability.

The arena had a large circular path around the edges of it, along with a third path leading into the center of the battleground. The path around the edges was separated by a three meter tall instacrete wall, which blocked line of sight to the rest of the arena.

“Which way are they going?” Ben asked, their choice would decide his next action.

“All of them are going towards our right, they appear to be acting rather recklessly.” Curie answered. “If you run around the path going left, you can hit their rear, which is undefended.”

Ben did as she suggested, quickly running his way around the far left side of the arena until he spotted them. Just like Curie said, their rear flank was undefended. His weapon did not permit him to fire rapidly, but he still managed to get two shots off into their tightly packed formation. To their credit, the enemy team responded rapidly and professionally, responding with blind suppressive fire which forced Ben back into cover.

“Two targets down, one more has hampered mobility.” Curie reported. “Fall back, we’ll hit them again.”

_That's what they get for leaving their rear unguarded, rookie mistake._ Ben thought. “Keep me informed.” 

He backed up rapidly, with the enemy opting to stay behind and help their immobilized teammate free themselves rather than pursue him. Once He found the path into the Center of the Arena, he took it, entering the complex series of hellish obstacles lovingly nicknamed “Vietnam” by some of the Instructors.

The Center of the arena was a mess of short walls, razor wire, obstacles, and training mines. Most of the recruits avoided entering the entire area if they could afford to, in order to avoid embarrassing losses to training mines. It provided ample cover, but if Ben wasn't careful he could end up deciding the round with a misplaced foot.

As Ben snuck around in the mess of traps and obstacles, he didn’t bother trying to get a good line of sight, with Curie’s all seeing eyes overhead, stealth was his biggest concern. Curie suddenly interrupted him as he neared what he viewed as a good position, next to some solid cover in the form of an instacrete wall.

“Mine!” Curie suddenly shouted inside of his head.

Ben froze, looked down, and saw that she was right, he had nearly stood on a mine. He sidestepped around it and continued on.

“Thanks.” Ben said, entering the more defensible position. “What’re they doing?”

“They've split up, one has entered the Jungle to your right, the other two have taken up positions overlooking the Jungle's exits.” Curie reported after a moment.

_They're splitting up? That negates their biggest advantage, what's gotten into them?_ Ben thought.

“Acknowledged.” Ben said quietly, looking to his right. “Give me a bearing on our attacker.”

“253.” Curie quickly responded.

Ben looked on his helmet's HUD and snapped to the target bearing, immediately sighting movement on around 20 odd meters away, which he shot at before hearing a cry of pain along with furious swearing.

“He's not down, finish him!” Curie warned.

He fired two more times, and the target was incapacitated. “Thanks Curie. Are the other two still at the exits?” Ben asked as he reloaded.

“Yes, and I have an idea on how to fix that. Move over to that small clearing to your left, by the barbed wire.” Curie instructed.

Ben did as she asked and went to that position, avoiding obstacles as he went.

“Ok, I'm going to line up a grenade throw for you, using a bit of trigonometry.” Curie explained. "If I use one of the cameras, I can dramatically increase our odds of a hit on the target."

“This will land on them?” Ben asked as he drew his grenade and let his shotgun hang on its sling.

“I certainly hope so.” Curie answered with less optimism than he hoped for.

Curie gave him a helpful guidance line on his HUD, giving him an idea of where to throw and how hard, he pulled the pin on the grenade and lobbed it. Ben heard a cry of panic before the paint grenade exploded.

“Got her.” Curie confirmed, satisfied with her handiwork.

“That won't work twice.” Ben pointed out.

“Final target has entered the Jungle, bearing-” Curie began before Ben heard a shotgun blast and the wall next to him exploded with paint, splatters of it splashed on him, stinging where it hit as it solidified.

Ben rolled out of the way of the second blast before responding with one of his own, attempting to buy himself a moment by suppressing the enemy. Ben dived behind one of the short walls, taking cover as the last remaining enemy recruit bombarded his position with paint rounds. He was totally pinned, moving was out of the question, and he was in a disadvantageous position.. After a brief moment of thinking, he thought of an idea.

“Damn, any suggestions Curie?!” Ben asked, making a concentrated effort to be a bit louder than normal.

“Yeah that's right, have your pet A.I-” The other recruit taunted before Ben shot him in the head. He had pointed his shotgun out from his cover, using the recruits taunting as guidance of where to aim.

“Got him.” Ben confirmed with a quick glance. "Sorry Curie, I just needed him to open his mouth."

"It is quite alright, that was good thinking." Curie said.

“The match goes to Spartan-G021. Medical crew, hose off Team Broadsword please.” Kurt said over the loudspeaker, his voice hinting he was impressed.

“Nice work Curie.” Ben said. "I wouldn't have won that without you."

“You did very well yourself, but thank you.” Curie said modestly.

**Observation Tower**

“That was certainly eye-opening, how the hell did he know where Leeland was?” Mendez commented as he watched the cleanup crews hose off the losing Spartans.

“Because, he cheated.” Kurt said with a smile. Richard looked confused, more than a little worried how this conversation was going to end.

“How so?” Mendez asked. "I didn't notice anything-"

“Deep Winter reported an infiltration attempt by Curie into the security systems, specifically the cameras. I ordered that she be let in, against his recommendations." Kurt clarified.

It wasn’t a surprise that Deep Winter had detected Curie’s infiltration. Even with all of her intrusion software, Deep Winter was a Third Generation Smart A.I sitting in an ONI supercomputer in Zone 76, Curie was simply outmatched.

“Wait, if you knew they were cheating, why not disqualify them?” Mendez asked, notably more curious than annoyed.

“Because, I wanted to see how well their teamwork has developed, and this proved an excellent opportunity.” Kurt explained. “Needless to say, I think they're doing well.”

“Well, I can’t fault that I suppose.” Mendez said. “Still, they cheated, do we let them get away with it?”

“This time, yes, although we should probably let them know Curie’s not as stealthy as she thinks she is. But if Ben starts using Curie as a crutch, that's when we start punishing him.” Kurt answered. “They need to work together, support each other, having Curie do everything for him would make him lazy, and a complacent Spartan is a dead Spartan.”

“I already know she won't help him with his academics.” Richard added. “I'd say they make a good team.”

“I still don't like it.” Mendez doubtfully replied. "But I can see where you're coming from."

"There's one other thing." Kurt added, "We're going to formalize him as a Category 2, Mjolnir and all."

"I can see why, given his eventual assignment." Mendez commented. "But where are you going to get the extra funding for a suit of Mjolnir?"

"ONI, specifically Section 2." Richard explained. "They approached me with a big chunk of funding to help with the extra augmentations, but in exchange, they wanted to do some propaganda with a Spartan as the focus. They want to show Spartans fighting alongside Marines and all that, and seeing as he was already going to the frontline, that’s not much of a problem."

"Well, the big shiny armor sure is good for looking impressive." Mendez said. "But he'll need to get through augmentation first."

"He will." Kurt said, speaking more from hope then actual assurance.

**2 years later**   
**Camp Currahee, Assembly Hall**   
**January 23rd, 0823 standard time, 2552**

All three-hundred and thirty Spartan IIIs of Gamma Company stood before Kurt in the Assembly Hall. All of them were dressed in their dress uniforms due to the formality of the occasion, it would likely be the last time they were able to wear them before they needed replacing. Even though they all had adult bodies by now due to the early onset of puberty, their augmentations would likely make them grow a few inches taller.

The Spartans had just finished watching footage taken from the Spartan II augmentations, specifically of the ones where the augmentations had gone wrong. The deaths were unpleasant to say the least. Kurt found himself more disturbed then he thought he would’ve been, rewatching them yet again.

“Just for further clarification, those are the augmentations that failed. Out of seventy-five candidates, fifty-six percent of the candidates either died or washed out.” Kurt explained. “Project Chrysanthemum, your augmentations, are far more advanced, but there are still major risks. You could be paralyzed, lose parts of your body that will require replacement, and of course, there is always a risk of death."

The recruits listened very carefully to everything he said. If they were at all disturbed by what they had seen, they did not show it. Kurt had to give them credit, even after being shown the brutality of what they were about to undergo, they did not even flinch.

“If you are not willing to undergo the augmentation procedure, we will find another opportunity for you to serve.” Kurt continued. “Years ago, you all made the choice to come here, and today is the day you make your second choice. If you are willing to go through the procedure, raise your right hand.”

Kurt watched as after not a moment's hesitation, almost every single recruits right hand was up, seconds later they were all up, with not a single recruit who did not have their right hand raised. Kurt felt a massive wave of pride for them, even though some of the recruits had hesitated a moment, but all of them had made the decision. Still, Kurt had to double check.

“Anyone who does not wish to undergo the procedure, leave now.” Kurt said.

Everyone stayed put, Kurt was almost certain he was going to explode with pride, and he found himself unable to keep the smile off of his face.

“Very well, know that in the unlikely event I never see you again” He stopped a moment more to let what he said sink in. “You are all the finest Spartans I've ever seen, and that I... all of us, could not be more proud of you. You will depart at 1300 by Pelican, and will be taken to the UNSC Hopeful for the duration of the procedure, you are all dismissed.”

As the newest batch of Spartans left, Kurt picked out a few notable ones. Liam and Edward, both Headhunters, as well as Benjamin and Raul, both of whom would serve in the UNSC Marine Corps and Army respectively, as well as act as potential replacements for Noble team and the other Category-Two teams. But Kurt had no favorites, in his eyes, they were all Spartans, and that was all that mattered to him.

_Good luck Spartans, you'll need it._ he thought.


	4. Chapter 4

**2 years later**

**August 24th, 0421 Local time, 2552**

**The Colony of Concord, Hill 934**

All things considered, Sergeant Xavier Meadows was having a rather shitty morning. It started at two in the morning with some Covenant artillery bombarding his platoon's position on Hill 934. The shelling lasted for almost a full hour, before the infantry started charging up the hill with a ferocious alien battle cry. Grunts, Jackals, Elites, and even a pair of Hunters. 

Thankfully there was still half a Platoon of ODSTs left after the bombardment and the earlier fighting, and half a Platoon of ODSTs was a force to be reckoned with. Covenant blood ran down the hill in rivers, bones splintered, flesh burned and Grunts exploded as their methane tanks ignited. Heavy Machine Gun fire combined with the steep slope and liberal usage of explosives by the ODSTs meant that the Covenant paid for every meter of ground with a dozen troops.

When the battle was finally done and the gunfire ceased, the Covenant had yet again been driven back. The exhausted defenders of Hill 934 continued to wait for reinforcements, which seemed less and less like a realistic prospect as the frontline continued to close around their hill. Thankfully, their rear was secure, so they weren't completely encircled. But ODSTs were shock troops, meant to be used on the offensive, not to hold solitary positions. And their ever-growing casualties meant that their unit’s strength diminished with every battle.

Currently, Meadows was sitting in a foxhole, holding his battle rifle in a stern, professional firing position. After the previous few hours of constant fighting, he wasn't afraid to admit he was stressed out, and he was paranoid the Covenant were going to come back.

"Meadows." A voice said from behind him, sounding equally exhausted.

He turned around and saw one of his squadmates, Corporal Yu Sato. Her dark purple accented ODST armor was caked in layers of mud, She'd taken her helmet off, revealing her face was just as dirty as her armor.

"Hey Yu." Meadows said, facing forward again to watch for any more hostiles.

"You can probably relax, you know. The Covies won't be back for a while." Yu said as she sat down next to him.

"Yeah... I know." Meadows said, finally lowering his rifle. "I'm just, a little paranoid, ya know?"

"Can't say I blame you." Yu said in agreement, before offering him a nutrient bar. "Here, I noticed yours are all gone."

"Thanks." Meadows said, removing his helmet before taking the offered food.

Meadows didn't complain, as he was only just now realizing he was absolutely starving. His first bite out of the bar confused him, and Yu noticed the shift in his facial expression.

"Granola?" He asked, somewhat doubtfully.

"Yeah, we're out of the good stuff." Yu said, with a hint of complaint to her voice. "Normally I wouldn't mind them, but they keep changing the recipe, and this one tastes like cardboard. I heard Bravo one-three still has a couple of the good ones, maybe we can trade for them."

"Hopefully." Meadows said, hoping that he hadn’t lost his cigarette ration somewhere during the battle. He didn’t personally smoke, but they were a valuable trading commodity on the frontline. "How're you holding up?"

"I'm fine." Yu replied, with a half-hearted chuckle as she realized the irony of the statement. "Just like you actually, a bit stressed, although I can say it certainly cheered me up when Fairfire blew that Elite up with one of his own grenades."

Fairfire was their Staff Sergeant, and the leader of the surviving ODSTS. She had been next in the chain of command after the Lieutenant was flash-vaporized along with most of the Command Fireteam.

"Yeah, that was funny." Meadows said, allowing himself a brief chuckle. "How's everyone else?"

"Fairfire took a plasma bolt, but her armor took it." Yu reported. "Nathan's fine too, his sniper rifle broke, but he found one of the old Stanchions to replace it. Some poor Army Trooper isn’t getting their favorite toy back anytime soon."

"Whose bright idea was it to give Nathan a coilgun?" Meadows asked jokingly.

"I dunno, but every time a Jackal sniper thinks it can line up a shot on us it ends up exploding." Yu said, a bit of levity in her voice as she probably imagined one of the avian predators being torn in half by a Gauss slug.

"What about Erik?" Meadows asked. “How’s he doing?”

Yu looked down to the dirt with a miserable expression on her face. "He got melted by a wraith blast about an hour ago, at least it was quick."

Meadows nodded solemnly, he hadn’t known the man well, but another dead Helljumper was always worth mourning.

"It's just us four left in our fireteam then..." Meadows said, dread seeping into his voice.

"I'm sure we'll get reinforcements soon." Yu said optimistically. “Command wouldn’t just leave us here, even if they wanted to, this hill is too damn important.”

"Heh, that’s a little morbid, but still, I admire the optimism." Meadows said. "I don't even have to ask how Fairfire's taking this whole situation."

"Oh she's been having a blast." Yu said. “I’ve never seen anyone stare down a Hunter like that, I’m amazed she’s still alive.”

“Yeah well, maybe she’ll tell us how-” Meadows began, before he was interrupted by a sound they both recognized. A truly alien noise unlike any other, the sound of a Wraith Blast soaring through the air.

"Ah shit." Yu said before the blast hit the empty foxhole right next to them, sending mud and plasma everywhere. Yu was lucky enough to avoid it, but Meadows got hit with a tiny glob of plasma that stuck to his leg, thankfully the plate took most of it, but he felt himself get noticeably hotter. He quickly threw his helmet back on, before firmly grabbing his rifle and grabbing a better stance.

"Looks like they're back!" Meadows shouted over TEAMCOM.

"Yeah, I noticed, thanks for the observation." Fairfire responded in an unimpressed manner over the radio. Meadows could hear inconsistent gunfire and the steady whine of plasma firing from the other side of the hill. "Nathan, Ultra coming up at eleven o’ clock, kill that bastard would you?"

Seconds later Meadows heard the sound of a coilgun slug breaking the sound barrier multiple times over. 

"One less split-lip to worry about." Nathan reported.

"Meadows, Yu, get over here! We need the firepower!" Fairfire shouted over the radio. "The Turrets will cover your position, just hurry the hell up!"

"Wilco." Meadows replied before he and Yu stood up and began the short sprint to the other side of the hill.

They were forced to take the long way through the trenches, avoiding plasma, shrapnel, bullets and more on the treacherous journey to the other end of their defenses. They passed by more ODSTs, but could not stop to offer any help, as Fairfire had made it very clear where they were needed. When they finally arrived at Fairfire's position, they found her operating an AIE-486 Mounted Rotary Gun, with Nathan entrenched a short distance away, taking shots at the oncoming Covenant infantry, creating a deafening thunderclap with each pull of the trigger.

"Where do you want us?" Meadows asked, forced to yell over the gunfire.

"Right here!" Fairfire yelled as she paused her firing to lob a grenade. Moments later, an entire squad of Grunts exploded, their methane tanks only adding to the fireball that claimed several more Covenant lives.

"Got it!" Yu said, taking up a position in the trench and opening fire with her Assault Rifle.

Meadows took up a position that covered an area Fairfire‘s turret couldn’t aim well. His first burst knocked out a grunt that was charging with two plasma grenades primed, the live explosives fell to the ground and blew up the rest of the Grunts around it. The rest of his magazine was spent eroding the shields, armor, flesh, and finally the skull of the Elite Major that had been leading the Grunts. He could feel bolts of plasma roar over his head, his visor polarizing itself to keep his vision clear.

Fairfire was doing her best to handle the ravenous onslaught of grunts with her turreted machine gun. She plowed through belt after belt of ammo, the barrels of her weapon becoming red-hot as she mercilessly tore entire squads of Grunts to ribbons. The Elites leading them began to suddenly drop as Nathan sent a supersonic tungsten projectile through their heads, helding to relieve some of the pressure on the rest of the squad. But as the Covenant got nearer the incoming fire got heavier, and the ODSTs found it harder to stick out of cover in order to get accurate shots.

"Damnit, we're going to get pinned!" Yu shouted as she reloaded.

"Not for long we're not!" Fairfire shouted. "Grenades, on my mark!"

All four of them ducked into cover and primed a frag grenade. This was a strategy Fairfire was rather fond of, and Meadows could see why. The Covenant didn’t seem to comprehend the idea that the humans were willing to take such risks during a battle, but the results were well worth the lost initiative.

"Mark!" Fairfire shouted.

All four ODSTs poked their heads out of cover, and four grenades flew through the air before landing at the feet of the incoming Covenant forces. The ODSTs got back into cover before the grenades detonated, blowing over half of the attacking force apart. Meadows could feel the shockwave from the blasts and shrapnel peppered the ground around him, the screams of aliens filled the air. The plasma fire continued for a few seconds, before it began to relent.

The four ODSTs popped out of cover once more once the shrapnel had died down, before unleashing a hail of gunfire on the survivors. The unshielded enemies who were already wounded died extremely quickly, and only the Elites proved to be any sort of challenge. But with already weakened shields, they quickly joined their fallen brethren. The ODSTs jeered at their dying enemies, unsympathetic towards the plight that the aliens had gotten themselves into.

_Serves them right._ Meadows thought. “That one’s for Erik, you rotten bastards!”

The few survivors quickly realized the assault was a failure and began to retreat, with the ODSTs taking shots at whoever they could as they ran. As the Covenant stragglers reached the relative safety of their lines, the defenders got back into cover and took stock of the situation.

"So much for us getting a break!" Meadows said in between deep breaths.

"Yeah, I know the feeling." Nathan added.

"Quit your bellyaching! If you want a break, Then make your preparations for the next wave and damn well earn it!" Fairfire sternly stated. Meadows could tell that even though she spoke with passion and energy, she was just as exhausted as the rest of us.

Nathan chuckled. "Yes Mom."

“I didn’t take you as the type of guy who’d call another girl “Mommy” Nathan.” Yu jokingly said.

“Hey now, that’s a very different-“ Nathan began his own joking response, but found himself interrupted.

"Shut up you two.." Fairfire said, before getting on her radio and checking around the rest of the line, seeing if everyone else on the hill with them was still combat effective. While she did, Nathan poked his head out of cover to see what the covenant were doing, using his rifle's scope to see them better.

"They're regrouping on our side, if only we still had those mortars, we could do some real damage right about now." Nathan reported, a hint of frustration in his voice at the lost opportunity.

"That's a sniper rifle is it not?" Yu asked.

"Yeah, why?" Nathan replied.

"So Snipe them!" Yu said like it was obvious.

"I can't, these assholes don't know how to stop... wait." Nathan said. "Ma'am, I see the wraiths, there on our side."

Fairfire put her conversation on hold and looked at Nathan. "How many?"

"Four, plus another thing I don't recognize, looks like a bus." Nathan said.

"That's a Shadow." Fairfire said as she took up a spotting position for Nathan.

"Should I shoot?" Nathan asked.

"No, the rest of the platoon needs breather." Fairfire said. "If you take a shot, they might resume the bombardment."

"How badly is everyone else doing?" Yu asked, concern evident in her voice.

"Badly, apparently we have even more wounded after that last fight." Fairfire said, her voice also accented by worry. "We need the time to get them out, and as long as they aren't bombarding us we'll be fine."

As if on cue, the wraiths all fired a blast of plasma that slowly soared through the air towards them. All of them heard it and dived back into cover. The wraith blasts missed them, and they sent even more mud and blobs of plasma soaring through the air.

"You just had to open your mouth!" Nathan shouted. He poked his head slightly out of cover to fire at the Wraiths, but even the large anti-material Gauss Rifle proved insufficient against the thick armor of the Wraiths.

"Quit your bitching Private!" Fairfire said, before getting on the radio and trying to raise Command for support. Meanwhile, the Wraiths continued to bombard their hill.

"They're coming again!" Nathan called out, before ducking back into the trench. "Looks like a bunch of jackals this time."

"Cover me, I'll try and raise the airforce!" Fairfire shouted back.

"Yu, get your launcher!" Meadows shouted as he popped out of cover and started firing at the jackals as they approached. These ones had shield gauntlets to protect them, but their hands were exposed, a vulnerable weak spot Meadows exploited. It was hard to deliver a kill shot, but at least he was doing damage.

Nathan popped up next to him, using his powerful rifle to the fullest. Unlike Meadow's battle rifle, each shot from Nathan was more than enough to tear the arm off a jackal. Unfortunately the shield wall stayed strong as it steadily advanced towards them.

After a few seconds, Yu returned with a rocket launcher. She got next to Nathan and took the launcher's safety off.

"Backblast clear!" She called out, checking to make sure she didn't fry anyone with the plume of hot air she was about to create.

"Clear!" Meadows and Nathan called out before the first rocket soared out of the launcher. The rocket collided directly with a jackal's shield, most of the shrapnel was ineffective, but the force of the blast and the actual explosion killed quite a few. A hole was blown in the shield wall, revealing a horde of grunts behind the jackals. The second rocket knocked out what was left of the jackals, with the survivors only interested in covering themselves

The grunts quickly realized their cover was gone and began to fire and advance. All of the ODST's were immediately pinned down under the barrage of shots from needlers and plasma pistols.

"Fairfire, we're pinned!" Yu shouted.

"Working on it." Fairfire calmly replied, in spite of the plasma whizzing by over her head. "Shortswords are inbound, won't be more than five minutes."

"We'll be dead by then, do we have any ideas?" Meadows asked.

"Grenades?" Nathan suggested with little certainty in his voice. All of them knew that throwing a grenade into the shitstorm of plasma above them would probably just melt it.

"No good." Fairfire shook her head. "We'll have to use the mines."

"What?" Meadows asked. "We have mines?"

"Fougasses, remote detonation, their built in along the barbed wire." Fairfire said as she pulled one of many detonators from her belt. "We dug them in but I hoped we wouldn't have to use them."

"Good planning." Meadows said.

"Nathan, poke your head up and tell me when they reach the wire." Fairfire said.

"With all that fire? I've got a better idea." Nathan said. 

Using a small piece of broken glass as a mirror, he managed to peek over the trench without getting vaporized. “Ok, wait a moment...”

“Nathan, this plasma isn’t getting any cooler!” Yu protested.

“Wait...” Nathan repeated, adjusting his makeshift mirror for a better angle. “Now, Hit it!"

Fairfire hit the detonator and the fougasses exploded, spraying shrapnel and smaller explosives into the covenant line. Some of them must have had incendiary mixtures judging by the amount of fire, which only added to the carnage. Grunts died by the dozens, and the surviving Jackals were blown apart. When the gory display was finished the Covenant were once again routed, this time with less than a tenth of their initial assault force. The ODSTs took potshots at the survivors, claiming several more alien lives as they ran.

"Good, that'll keep em' back for a while." Meadows said, unable to resist the smirk of satisfaction from a job well done.

"Hopefully." Fairfire said as she admired her handiwork.

"You'll jinx it you know." Nathan said looking at Meadows.

"I ain't gonna do it twice in a row. Besides, they have no reserves left, what do they have left to throw at us?" Meadows said.

"Their Wraiths?" Yu suggested. “The auto-turrets on those things are nasty...”

"Up that hill? I'd like to see them try." Fairfire said, as if taunting the Covenant to try.

But the aliens would never get a chance to answer her challenge, as a flight of Shortsword Bombers flew above their hill at supersonic speeds. Meadows never even saw the ordnance they dropped, but it was enough to completely obliterate the Covenant’s positions at the base of the hill. The whole hill let out a hearty cheer as the Wraiths smoldered and the Covenant were wiped from the face of Concord.

**August 24th, 1304 Local time, 2552**

**The Colony of Concord, Local UNSC Command Post**

As the sun rose over the muddy trenches of Concord, the final Helljumpers made their way off of Hill 934. They were replaced by a far larger unit of Army Troopers, who were more suited to handling the prolonged Siege the Covenant intended to put the Hill through. Staff Sergeant Fairfire felt a bit of remorse for leaving the Hill in such disastrous shape, but she was confident that the Troopers would be able to patch together what defenses they had left behind. What little remained of her Platoon waited outside the Firebase and rested, while Fairfire was debriefed by the Army Colonel in charge of the area.

She felt more nervous in the office of a superior than whenever she was in battle with the Covenant. However, to call her nervous at all would perhaps be inaccurate, as the word simply did not suit her. Still, she did feel a sense of unease as she relayed everything that happened over the past week on Hill 934.

The woman at the desk in front of her was some no doubt terribly important Colonel who's name escaped Fairfire at the moment, and she listened intently to what Fairfire had to say. She uniform lacked the grime and dirt of Fairfire’s undersuit, but the exhaustion in her eyes and the used Stimpack on her desk suggested that she’d been just as busy as the Helljumpers.

"-Once that was done, we received orders to head back here. We gathered what was left of our equipment, our dead and wounded, and let the Army take over." Fairfire said, wrapping up her retelling of the events earlier that day.

"I see." The Colonel said, entertaining Fairfire with a nod to show that she was listening. "What about your casualties?"

Fairfire did her best to resist a grimace, and succeeded in maintaining a degree of professionalism. While she personally wasn’t all that fond of formalities and pleasantries, she had learned that superior officers typically didn’t share that sentiment. "Our Platoon was really put through the meat grinder, we only have eight active personnel... including myself."

"What about the wounded?" The Colonel asked, her demeanor notably shaken somewhat by the heavy casualties.

"11, none walking." Fairfire answered. “...For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I don’t have better news to give you.”

“Well I’m afraid that makes two of us.” The Colonel said with a hint of regret. “Since our hospital ship is off doing some no doubt terribly critical ONI bullshit, we’re left with only the reserve units for field hospitals. Look, long story short, it’s going to be a little while before I can get you some replacements.”

"Oh, I see." Fairfire said, unable to hide her disappointment.

"I do have some good news for you." The Colonel said. "There’s an Army Lieutenant with some hefty connections who wants to talk to you, apparently he wants you and what’s left of your team for some kind of long-term assignment.”

Fairfire was very surprised to hear that. ONI wasn’t particularly fond of using Helljumpers for anything other than bait, so she was a bit nervous as well. “A long-term assignment?”

“Hey, don’t look at me, these ONI jackoffs don’t tell me what I’m allowed to eat for breakfast, let alone operational details.” The Colonel said, with a hint of bitter frustration in her voice. “On that note, I’m not allowed to be here for this. Let me know when you’re done.”

The Colonel pressed a button on her desk, before standing up and leaving the room. The holotank on the desk activated as soon as she left, it didn’t show a hologram, but a voice played nonetheless.

“Hello there, Staff Sergeant." The voice said. "I already know who you are, so allow me to introduce myself. I am Lieutenant Commander Kurt Ambrose."

"Uh, hello Sir." Fairfire awkwardly replied. "What's the occasion?"

"I have a need for a Special Forces unit to help with a project of ours." Kurt explained. "I've been searching for quite some time, and I believe your Platoon would fill that role nicely."

Fairfire flinched, apparently he hadn’t been brought up to date on recent events. "I'll warn you Sir, my unit currently consists of 8 men, and I just got told I'm getting no reinforcements." Fairfire said. “I’m afraid you’d be getting a squad, not a Platoon.”

"I'm sorry for your loss." Kurt said, his voice giving a sense of genuine regret. "However, my request still stands. You and your squad have a lot of accomplishments under your belt. Your counterattack on Algolis caught the eyes of some very notable people.”

Fairfire nodded, even though the man couldn’t see her, she remembered the event well. It was a last-ditch desperate effort to buy the UNSC Marine Corps of Engineers more time to deny the Covenant some critical assets. They’d dealt an unexpected blow, and bought the Engineers enough time to apparently bring one of the Prototype Mechs online, which promptly smashed whatever was left of the Covenant line. The poor bastard had died in the process, but he’d bought plenty of time for the Marines, Helljumpers, and Civilians to evacuate.

“I like to think we’ve done some impressive things.” Fairfire said, doing her best to be modest. “But if you need some Coffin-Jockeys, you’d have worse places to look than us.”

“I’m happy to hear that.” Kurt replied. “I have a special operative who’ll be completing their training soon. Originally I was planning to slot them in along with some of the Marines on Hardscrabble, but your unit offers me a better option.”

_Well that’s vague._ Fairfire thought. "With all due respect sir, I'm going to have to ask for more details."

"Of course." Kurt said. "Our operative is a Spartan, and I need some experienced marines to have his back while they get accustomed to the field."

That put Fairfire's favorite emotion into her head, excitement. She never had fully subscribed to the rivalry between the ODSTs and Spartans, anyone who could fistfight a Hunter and win was well worth respecting. Some of her squadmates certainly had their doubts about the Spartans, but Fairfire was more than willing to do a bit of convincing if it meant having a Spartan in her unit.

"A Spartan you say?" Fairfire asked with a grin. “Well now, you certainly know how to make a convincing case.”

"In my line of work, you need to be able to talk to people." Kurt vaguely said, but he seemed satisfied with her answer. "But back on topic, you would be assigned to a new unit tasked with reinforcing critical points along the frontline, so expect plenty of heavy action.”

"Sounds like fun.” Fairfire said, now fully convinced. “Well, if you still want us, you’ll have my signature.”

"I've read your files, Sergeant, and what I read impressed me. Just between you and me, you would have made a good Spartan." Kurt said.

"Thank you, Sir." Fairfire said, accepting the compliment. It felt genuinely weightful for reasons she couldn't pin down.

"Now then, you'll be leaving Concord aboard with one of the ships in orbit. You and your team will have a few months of either Shore Leave or Logistical Duties, it’ll be some time before we speak again." Kurt explained.

_Damn Lieutenant, you already had me convinced._ Fairfire thought. “Understood Sir. I’m sure my men would appreciate some time off of the frontline.”

"Well that’s very good to hear. I'll have the Colonel reroute a Dropship for you, the ship you'll be stationed aboard is the UNSC Dominion."

"Understood Sir, was there anything else?" Fairfire asked.

"That was all, Staff Sergeant. Remember, this conversation never happened, but feel free to share this information with your team, and only your team. You’re dismissed." Kurt said, before the holotank deactivated.

Fairfire left the Colonel’s office only to find her talking with the rest of her team outside. The rain had let up, and the star in the sky was shining a bit more brightly.

_If it weren’t for this morning, I’d say it’s a wonderful day._ Fairfire thought.

"Good news everyone!" Fairfire enthusiastically said. "We just got a vacation!"

"Really?!” Nathan asked, seemingly caught a bit off guard.

“Jesus Christ it’s logistics duty and shore leave Nathan, we aren’t going to the goddamn Circus.” Fairfire said, dampening his expectations.

“Awww, but you promised you’d take us!” Nathan jokingly said.

"Oh hell." The Colonel interjected, knocking them off of their unprofessional shenanigans. "Now I have 8 less ODSTs to hold this sector."

"Sorry ma'am." Fairfire said, with a genuine bit of sympathy. "I got an offer I couldn't refuse, I'd share the details but... well, you know."

"Classified." The Colonel guessed. "Alright, have fun wherever you're going. Hopefully you do end up getting a vacation though, you've certainly earned it."

"Thank you, Sir." Fairfire said, it was nice to get some recognition for the mountain of corpses they’d left behind.”

"You're too kind." Nathan added jokingly.

"Shut up private." The Colonel replied, but she clearly didn’t have much sternness behind her words. "Anyway, I'm going to go get some coffee, I have a meeting with someone at 1500."

"Don't have too much fun without us!" Fairfire shouted as she walked away.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” She yelled back.

Yu chuckled. “She’s great, I hope she lives.”

“Me too Corporal, me too.” Fairfire voiced her agreement.

After around an hour of waiting and explaining what was happening to the rest of her team, a Pelican arrived to take them to the UNSC Dominion. Before they left, they all got to take brief showers to wash off all of the mud and grime from Concord. It was nice to finally be clean once again, and it was even better to be in the Troop Bay of a Pelican, heading somewhere safe.

"So where are we going first? Italy?" Nathan asked somewhat jokingly.

"I'm not sure, but as long as I don’t have to see any more mud, blood, or Covies, I’d be happy with anywhere." Fairfire replied.


	5. Chapter 5

**Several months later**   
**Camp Currahee**   
**September 10th, 1850 LocalTime, 2552**

Receiving the Augmentations did a number on Ben's body. On top of being excruciatingly painful, he had emerged from them more sickly than some of the other Spartans. However, he survived and all of the problems he was left with were fixable. Unlike the other Spartan III companies, Gamma Company received an extra year of training after their Augmentations. Ben didn't have any complaints, as while it would take him longer to see action, it also allowed him to get used to his newly upgraded body in a safer environment.

It was difficult to get used to just how different he was now, he was much taller, stronger, and faster than he was before. He ate and slept much less, and he could view things from a new, slower perspective in battle. It was a side-effect of his newly modified nervous system called "Spartan Time", and it allowed him to feel like everything around him had slowed to a crawl. It would only occur during moments of extreme adrenaline, like his training matches, but it offered a valuable advantage in those situations.

His neural interface had also been upgraded once again, this time to fit his newly grown body, and to incorporate some minor upgrades. Curie had remarked it was far "roomier", and Ben supposed that was all that really matter, as she got a lot more usage out of his neural lace and he did. She had also been a great help in helping him maintain his health while he had recovered, making sure he was eating and resting enough.

Only a few days after the procedure, while he was still stuck in bed, Lieutenant Commander Kurt visited him and told him that he would be issued a suit of Mjolnir Power Armor. It was apparently a consequence of his assignment, but Ben wasn't complaining, he was ecstatic to have the honor of using such a valuable piece of equipment. It was several steps up from the Semi-Powered Infiltration Armor he had previously been training with.

Ben had learned about Mjolnir in his classes, and he had been given a run-down on what to expect from the new Mark V variant that had entered service. He was allowed to personally pick every piece of armor, and it was delivered to him only a couple weeks later. Given his experience with the armor, Kurt had offered to assist with the process.

For the helmet he had elected to use the Mark VI helmet that was still in it's prototype phases. Kurt had initially recommended the Mark V/B helmet, which was purpose built for his role. But Ben explained that the prototype Mark VI helmet had a wider field of vision as well as a more resilient visor, two upgrades he could not ignore. Kurt agreed with him after he offered to submit field reports for it, to assist with the production of future variants.

For the chestpiece he selected the recon variant for the extra carrying pouches. Additional carrying capacity was a major concern of his, as Mjolnir's magnetic holsters and ammunition storage system couldn't carry certain pieces of equipment, and retrieving equipment out of a rucksack took valuable time. The extra weight to carry was practically a non-issue with his Augmentations and Armor, so he was more concerned with ease of use than weight efficiency. He also took a durable soft-case on the left hip for even more carrying capacity. He selected the FJ/Para knee-guards for their mix of protection and maneuverability, as well as covering the joints in his armor effectively. 

His shoulder pieces offered a more challenging decision, Kurt convinced him to keep the Base Mark V plate for his left shoulder, as it was an exceptionally simple but reliable piece, not to mention Cheaper. For his right shoulder he picked the Security variant, complete with a self-sharpening kukri for close encounters. It offered a great deal more protection, as well as a backup weapon option in an emergency. Plus, the Kukri also served as a valuable tool in a multitude of situations.

The only part of his armor he struggled with selecting was the high-durability paint scheme. Ben personally had little concern for aesthetics, in his opinion, the armor was already beautiful in it's own way. Curie however, had insisted that they at least make an effort to keep it practical while also looking nice. In the end they agreed upon a design based on an urban camouflage pattern. The colors they picked were a dull silver primary and a steel grey secondary, with the visor being stylized in the traditional gold. All of the paint was designed to minimize reflection or glare from light, but there was only so much that could be done to conceal a large suit of power armor.

When the suit was delivered, Kurt personally helped Ben put it on the first time and ran him through one of the obstacle courses. The results were impressive, the armor made him stronger, faster, and better in every way, even more so than his Augmentations already had. While he now weighed in the region of half a tonne, he was still capable of using all manner of military vehicles. His added mass in the suit also meant he was much harder to push or knock over, not to mention the dramatically added protection and, equally impressive, shield generator.

It took some getting used to moving in the armor, as he was much faster than he normally was, but after some practice, he was able to precisely control his movements, even more so than before. One of the downsides of the suit was the significant amount of time it took to put on and take off, however with practice Ben was able to swap in and out of it within a reasonable timeframe. He would also carry a maintenance kit to keep it in working order, and even received some training in the mechanics, maintenance, and even modification of the armor.

Curie was an absolute lifesaver in regards to managing the suit. The whole suit was designed with holding an A.I in mind, and the advantages of that became obvious very quickly. She was able to help him with everything ranging all the way from power distribution to helping him perform rapid, precise movements by optimizing the connection between his armor and his nervous system. She could also tell if a system wasn't performing correctly, and in some cases, even fix them without Ben's help.

That had been months ago, today was his official graduation day. And while he wouldn't be taking part in the ceremony with the other Gamma Company Spartans, his training was now complete. Most of the other Spartan IIIs in his company had already been deployed, now it was his turn, as he had just received his very first set of deployment orders. As he waited by the landing pad for transport to arrive, he saw Kurt along with his old friend and mentor Richard approach him.

"Sir!" Ben said, snapping to salute. His voice was modulated by the helmet he was wearing, making it much deeper.

"At ease Sergeant." Kurt said before Ben relaxed. Kurt had a wide grin on his face, he was very clearly satisfied with how Gamma Company had turned out. "I came to say goodbye. As you're no doubt aware, you and Curie have your first assignment."

"We’re aware, but I'm afraid that we weren't privy to the details." Ben replied. "Still, it's good to see you."

"Likewise Spartan. As for your orders, I have them here." Kurt said, holding out a file for Ben to take. "Unfortunately I can't stick around, and it's likely we'll never see each other again... or at least for a long time."

"It's been an honor knowing you Sir. Thank you, for everything." Ben said genuinely. Kurt had been a figure of his admiration for the longest time, and while it was saddening to say goodbye, his training was now complete, it was time for him to join the fight to defend Humanity.

"Thank you, Monsieur Kurt." Curie said, using his helmet's speakers to communicate, there was a hint of sadness in her voice. "Without you, I do not know where I would be."

"I'm glad to have met you both as well." Kurt said, a hint of emotion in his voice as well. "The Covenant aren’t ready for what you all are about to do to them..."

"Sir, as much as I don't want to interrupt this heartfelt goodbye, you're five minutes late for your meeting with Mendez." Richard interjected, obviously trying to speak as politely as possible.

"Thank you Richard." Kurt said with a nod. "I better get going, goodbye Ben."

"Goodbye, Sir." Ben said. With that statement, Kurt left.

Ben turned his attention back to Richard, before making an uncomfortable realization. With his training complete, Richard would likely be staying behind to train the next Company of Spartans. “So, I suppose this is goodbye.”

Richard gave an unexpected smile. "Thankfully not. I requested a transfer to the Navy some time ago, and they've placed me in Command of the UNSC Dominion.”

That was certainly a pleasant surprise. From the cursory look Ben had been able to take at his deployment orders, it seemed that was the same ship he would be stationed aboard.

"That's good news." Ben said, unable to keep the smile off of his face, even if it was concealed by his helmet. “I had no idea you were planning on leaving ONI.”

“Yeah well... it was long overdue. I think I’ll be a bit more useful in the Navy.” Richard said, a somewhat weary expression on his face. “I’m glad we’ll be able to keep working together, I’d say we make a good team.”

"I am also happy that we can stay together, Commander Richard. You have not only been a capable teacher, but a good friend." Curie said, and even though he couldn't see her, Ben could imagine that was smiling. The revelation of Richard’s new rank was similarly surprising, although given his prior experience commanding Prowlers, it wasn’t totally out of the blue.

"Likewise Curie, I think I've learned more from you than I did in Basic." Richard said with a hint of humor. "But I believe that for the time being, we should focus on where we're going."

"Where would that be?" Ben asked, taking another look at the file that was still in his hands.

"We're headed to the colony of Concord." Richard said. "My forces will be helping out on the ground, and I’ve been told that we will also be delivering an Elite prisoner to a Prowler in-system for interrogation."

Ben noted that there would be a Covenant soldier in the brig, but he was more focused on the missions he would be going on.

"How's the battle going?" Ben asked as he kept reading.

"Surprisingly well, given the state of the war. Admiral Remington is giving them hell in space, and General Lee Oliver is doing well enough on the ground." Richard said. "I don't know exactly what your assignment will be, but I know you and the rest of your new team have a busy campaign ahead of you."

"Looking forward to it." Ben said, before finishing the rest of the file, Richard had summarized it fairly well.

As Ben spoke, a Pelican came down to take them to The Dominion. The journey was relatively long so they made small talk to pass the time. When they finally did land in the Dominion's Starboard Hangar, they disembarked and immediately had the attention of all of the crew, as both a ranking officer and a Spartan coming out of the same Pelican was an oddity not many got to see.

"As you were." Richard said, prompting them to return to what they were doing. "Hopefully they can get used to having a Spartan aboard."

"I'm sure they will." Ben replied, with a degree of confidence.

"Remember Ben, elements of the Spartan 2 program were made public in 2547, it's likely they believe you are one." Curie said, speaking inside of his helmet so that the crew couldn't hear. Speaking privately with Curie was something that he quickly grew to appreciate, as her input was very commonly valuable.

"They probably don't even know that there’s difference, or even different generations of Spartans." Ben replied, keeping his voice in his helmet so only Curie could hear him.

As they walked through the hangar they spotted a multitude of air and space vehicles. Ben spotted a Vulture, some Hornets, some Pelicans, a Wombat drone, and one of the new Sabre interceptors. He also overheard some of the crew members talking about a lack of Pelicans.

"Is the ship's Pelican compliment not filled?" Ben asked, looking to Richard as they walked.

"We're currently at six out of the normal twelve." Richard said. "Apparently some of them got transferred back to Reach for the defense aboard another ship. Given the recent news... I don't think we're getting those back."

"I see." Ben said. "And what about the crew?"

"Full complement, with you included that's a bit over a thousand souls on board." Richard said, without even a moment of thought.

"You've memorized all this." Ben observed.

"I had some good notes to work with that I was sent, I haven't met the Executive Officer yet, but they're certainly talented." Richard commented. “He made sure we’re well stocked too, apparently Concord’s been under Siege for some time, so they’ll probably be grateful for the help.”

"Good to hear." Ben said genuinely, good officers were in short supply, along with every other major resource. "Have you met anyone else aboard yet?"

"I've met one formally, Lieutenant Thomas. He's an ONI liaison responsible for the Elite." Richard said. "Very dedicated man, but I’ve heard he can be a bit... overbearing. Hopefully we can still work together well enough."

Ben nodded, that had likely been the most important lesson that Richard had taught him, how to work with difficult people.

As they walked through the hallways they passed by several marines and crew members, who all saluted to Richard as he passed. The ship seemed to be in good shape, despite its apparent age. Many of the halls and compartments had little decorations, all seemingly given a nautical theme. Of particular note was a water-based life preserver mounted above the entryway to the bridge, the kind commonly used on ships prior to the invention of more practical means of staying afloat, and it was even customly marked with the Dominion’s name and service number.

The bridge of a Charon class was rather exposed, a common trait shared amongst most UNSC warships. However, it was much smaller than other bridges, with a smaller number of stations for the officers, compared to more modern designs. There were stations for a helmsman, a weapons officer, an astro-navigation officer, a communications officer, an operations officer, and an apparently unused space for the chief engineer. There was also plenty of room to walk around, which was a relief to Ben, as his large frame made walking around difficult in some instances.

He and Richard made their way to the front of the bridge, where they found the command chair as well as a middle aged man with short brown hair and hazel eyes standing next to it. His uniform and insignia designated him the rank of Lieutenant Commander.

"Commander on deck!" The man announced as soon as he spotted the two. The entire bridge crew snapped to attention.

"At ease." Richard said, after he gave the room a wide examination. "I take it you're Lieutenant Commander John Bradford?"

"Yes Commander, it’s good to have you aboard." Bradford said, offering a handshake, which Richard accepted.

_There's some experience behind that man. _Ben thought, noting a large amount of scars dotting his face and hands._ I wonder what kind of stories he has to tell._

Richard sat down in the Commander's chair. "It’s good to be aboard. What's our status?"

"The Dominion is currently at ninety-six percent operational capacity, we're only missing a few Pelicans and a handful of personnel." Bradford said. "The new Sabres had a few issues, but that's been sorted out."

"What about Weapons, and Navigation?" Richard asked.

"Navigation is online, we're rekeying the Weapons systems now. The only thing that's down for maintenance is the gravity generator in the gym." Bradford said.

"And the slipspace drive?" Richard asked, checking something on his datapad.

"Fully charged and ready to jump to Concord on your mark." Bradford said. “We should have the calculations done by now.”

Richard gave a firm nod of approval. "Good, get us underway as soon as possible. Let's not keep Fleetcom waiting."

"Yes sir. You heard the man Ensign, get us moving!" Bradford ordered. “Lieutenant, double check our drive, make sure we’re good to go!”

Two of the bridge crew gave a brief "Aye Sir." in response, before they carried out his orders.

"Is there anything else I should know about, Lieutenant?" Richard asked.

"Not for you Sir, but I believe that I may have an update for the Spartan." Bradford said before turning to Ben. "The rest of Fireteam Onyx is currently in the barracks on deck five. We'll get a briefing sorted out for you at some point."

"Thank you." Ben said, before turning to Richard. "If I may ask Sir, I'd like to stay for a moment, and watch the slipspace transition."

Ben had never seen a live slipspace transition, he'd seen simulations, but never anything in person. Even though he'd gone on slipspace journeys before, he'd always been in cryosleep during the transition. For this trip however, they would not need to enter cryosleep.

"Granted." Richard said with a nod.

"Sir, slipspace drive is green and good to go!" The helmsmen reported.

"It’s giving off some weird readings." The navigator added, as she looked over to another screen, a slightly worried expression on her face. "It looks like some form of background radiation, it's doing hell on our calculations."

"Can we jump?" Richard asked, a hint of worry in his voice.

"Absolutely, but we should probably report this once we arrive at Concord, these readings are crazy..." She replied, almost in awe of what she was looking at.

"Understood, standby." Richard said before reaching for the intercom. "All hands, this is the Commander. Brace for slipspace Transition."

After waiting for around thirty seconds Richard spoke again. "Ensign, commence slipspace Jump."

"Aye sir." The helmsman and navigation officer said, before typing away at their computers.

Moments later, Ben watched as a large green portal opened in front of the ship, but there was one problem, slipspace portals were normally blue. What looked like multicolored lightning began to snake out of the portal, before dissipating. Bolts of what almost looked like lightning danced throughout the portal, but never actually crossed through the middle. Richard's face seemed incredibly worried as the ship flew towards the portal.

"Helmsman?" Richard asked nervously. "Take evasive action!"

"I'm working on it!" The helmsmen said as he furiously typed at his keyboard. "I can't stop the ship, our momentum is too strong!"

“Wave us off course!” Richard ordered.

“It’s too late, we’re going to hit it!” The helmsman called out in a slight panic.

Recognizing they were going to enter the portal no matter what, Richard frantically grabbed the intercom as he pushed a button on his chair, sounding the collision alarm.

"All hands, brace!" Richard yelled into the intercom before the Dominion began to enter the portal.

Ben felt the ship lurch as the front half of the ship disappeared into the portal. Ben locked his magnetic boots down to the floor as the bridge entered the portal, the bridge lurched violently at first, but stayed steady as the rest of the ship fully entered the portal. Bradford was thrown to the floor as he was the only one not in a chair, and didn't have anything holding him down.

The ship transitioned through the portal quickly, almost as soon as they had passed through it. When the ship emerged out of the portal, it looked as if nothing had changed and they were still in normal space. Which Ben knew wasn't normal, because they should have been in slipspace, which looked very different.

"Sir, the drive's shutting down!" The helmsman shouted.

"Let it, and cut the power!" Richard said. "XO, get me a damage report!"

"Yes Sir!" Bradford shouted as he got up off the floor, seemingly unfazed.

"What do I do, Sir?" Ben asked, frantically wondering how to help.

"Ben, this situation is out of your hands, just let them work." Curie said reassuringly.

"Curie's right." Richard quickly said, before turning to Bradford. "Where's that damage report!?"

While frustrating, Ben stood in place and did his best to stay out of everyone’s way. His mind was ablaze with thought and adrenaline, whatever had just happened, it was very sudden.

"I have it sir!" Bradford said, handing a datapad to Richard, who gave it a brief read and turning to the helmsman.

"Get us away from that portal!" Richard ordered. "Flank speed!"

"On it!" The helmsmen said as he put the ships engines at a hard burn and accelerated away from the portal at high speed. Ben felt the weight of the starship shift beneath him as the massive engines fired.

One of the monitors on the bridge was showing a live camera feed of the portal, which was now behind the Dominion. Ben saw the portal begin to dissipate before it vanished completely.

"Lieutenant, please tell me that the drive is shut down!" Richard shouted at the navigation officer.

"It's offline!” She confirmed. “It’s taken damage, but I can’t say how much.”

Richard sighed with frustration. "Bradford, is this damage report updated?"

"Yes." Bradford said. "We only suffered some minor armor damage, but I can't tell what state the slipspace drive is in."

Richard sighed with relief. "Casualties?"

"I'll have that report in a couple of seconds, I'll need that." Bradford said pointing at his datapad before Richard handed it back.

"Helmsman, do you have any idea what just happened?" Richard asked, his expression and voice full of concern

"None sir, but we aren't in slipspace, that's for sure." The helmsmen said, worry evident in his voice as well.

"Alright... now where the hell are we?" Richard wondered, his gaze settling on the blackness of space out of the front viewport.


	6. Chapter 6

**UNSC Dominion, Unknown Space**   
**September 10th, 1956 Local Time, 2552**

Richard’s previous experiences failed to shed any light on what had just occurred. He had performed countless slipspace jumps in the past, and as such, had also been witness to a fair few malfunctions. Reliability on slipspace drives was a top priority, but minor issues were very common, things like inaccurate jumps could take a ship millions of kilometers off course, and far more disastrous occurrences were not unheard of. But he had never seen, or even heard of a slipspace drive being turbulent, let alone such an unnerving portal.

_It looked almost... sickly._ Richard thought, feeling a bit of vertigo as he watched the portal disappear on one of the bridge monitors.

He took a momentary glance around at the rest of the bridge crew, all of them seemed nervous, but their discipline kept them focused on their tasks. He looked at his helmsman, Ensign Williams, who had not yet provided an answer to his question.

“Helmsman?” Richard prompted, as the man snapped up to attention. “Where are we?”

“I’m ah... still working on getting us away from the portal, Sir.” Ensign Williams said apologetically, looking up from his station. “Lieutenant Chen might be able to help you.”

_Yes, you should ask the Astro-Navigations that, you moron._ Richard critically thought, as he realized that his panic must have affected his judgement. “Lieutenant, do you have anything?”

“Trying to figure that out, Sir.” Lieutenant Chen said. “But wherever we are, we’re out of the Zeta Doranus System, our sensors even find the star, let alone Onyx.”

“Lieutenant Bradford, do we have any casualties?” Richard said, keeping the worry out of his voice. Bradford handed over his datapad before speaking, allowing Richard to read the report for himself.

“None sir, a few things were knocked over, but we're all alive and unharmed.” Bradford reported. “But I’m afraid I still don’t have an update on the slipspace drive.”

Richard’s stomach fell, maybe they weren’t safe after all. A damaged slipspace drive could easily kill them all if not properly handled. He returned Bradford’s datapad and issued his next orders. “I want a technician team in HAZOP gear to check the slipspace drive, make sure we don't have anything else go wrong.”

“On it, Sir!” The Dominion's operations officer, Ensign Gillespie, said before getting to work. He also doubled as the ship's communications officer, responsible for delivering orders to the other parts of the ship. Technically there were supposed to be two officers manning those positions, but for whatever reason, Gillespie handled both.

“Ben, is that suit rated for radiation?” Richard asked. Ben hadn't moved since he had last spoken.

“Yes sir.” Ben confirmed. 

“Go with them, Curie's eyes might be useful, and they might need some help.” Richard ordered. If he remembered correctly, Curie's personality was derived from an old earth scientist, who had apparently done some work with radioactive material. Hopefully, she would be able to help with figuring out what had happened to the complicated device.

“Yes, Sir.” Ben repeated, before leaving the bridge, Curie sent him a brief note of acknowledgement to his datapad.

Richard turned his attention back towards their broader situation. “Lieutenant Chen, do you have anything?”

“Nothing yet, Sir.” she reluctantly answered. “I'm trying to match up local star-charts with where we are now, but I'm getting nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Richard asked, afraid he already knew the answer.

“We're in deep space, I'll double check the numbers but initial readings say we're far outside of UNSC territory, if we can see it at all.” Lieutenant Chen reported, pursing her lips in a dissatisfied manner.

“That's impossible, even if we entered slipspace, there's no way we were traveling any more than a few seconds.” Richard pointed out. “Maybe the navigation computer was damaged when we tried to jump?”

“It’s certainly possible Sir, but I’ll need time, I may have missed something.” she replied, a hint of frustration in her voice, although it was clearly not aimed at him.

“Do it, let me know when we have something concrete to work with.” Richard said.

_And while she’s doing that, maybe the rest of us can figure out what the hell just happened._ Richard thought.

“Helmsman, keep us on a steady burn away from that portal.” Richard ordered, opting to go with caution over curiosity. “I don’t care where we’re going, but if that thing opens up again, we don’t want to be there when it does.”

“Aye sir.” Ensign Williams confirmed. “Warming up the thrusters to a standard burn.”

Richard then turned to their weapons officer, Lieutenant Gage. “Weapons, are we still operational?”

“Archer pods are cold but ready, and the MAC is operational, but uncharged. Point defense is online, but I'll need to rekey the system.” Gage reported, his voice notably uneasy.

“See to it.” Richard instructed, hoping that an order would keep him focused. Spinning his attention around to the main console on the Dominion's bridge, it was currently a display of the Dominion itself, and it read mostly okay, with the exception of the slipspace drive.

“Sir, the HAZOP team is still getting ready, but the Spartan confirms the drive has... melted, Sir.” Ensign Gillespie reported after double checking what he had heard.

Richard sighed, this was getting worse and worse. Wherever they were, they were stuck. “Keep me informed.”

“Aye sir.” Ensign Gillespie said before returning his attention to his station.

There was a brief pause as everyone worked. Richard doubled checked the damage report on his datapad, nothing at changed.

“Sir, I'm getting numerous update requests from across the ship.” Ensign Gillespie said. "It seems like we're the only ones who know the whole situation."

“We don’t know the whole situation.” Bradford pointed out, echoing Richard’s thoughts.

“Well, that doesn’t mean we can’t offer some reassurances.” Richard replied, before reaching for the intercom. “All hands, please continue with your duties as normal. We are working on the situation as we speak, we will brief everyone once we know what just happened.”

_I really hope we're close to UNSC space, I don't want to have to explain to all these souls that we’re lost in deep space. _Richard thought bleakly._ I can fight the Covenant, not a vacuum._

“Sir, CIWS is online.” Lieutenant Gage said, his demeanor still shaky. “All weapons are online, safeties on.”

“Good, run a check on the reactor in the meantime.” Richard said, opting to give the wavering man another task to keep him focused. Once that was done, he turned to Lieutenant Chen, who looked extremely frustrated. “Lieutenant Chen?”

“Sir I'm running the starcharts past the A.I now, give me ten seconds.” she said, unable to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Under the circumstances, he tolerated the outburst, waiting for her next update.

“Starcharts came back negative sir, we're... nowhere in known space.” Lieutenant Chen said, obviously distraught.

The rest of the bridge crew paused in their tasks, the fear and concern becoming a little more palpable in the room before everyone slowly went back to their tasks. 

Richard clamped down on his own concern and issued his orders rapidly, he needed to maintain discipline. “Gillespie, keep me informed on the slipspace drive. Williams, try to figure out what the hell that portal was. Lieutenant Chen, triple check everything, I want to know if a single star we can see is recognizable.”

“Yes sir.” They all said, getting to their orders.

""Technicians are equipped and examining the drive." Gillespie reported after a few seconds. “Sir, private communication coming for you now, it's from the Spartan.” 

“Patch it through my earpiece.” Richard replied, hoping for good news.

“Hello? Commander, do you read?” Ben's voice said in his earpiece.

“I read, what the hell’s going on down there Sergeant?” Richard asked.

“HAZOP crew is looking at it now, the drive is cooked. Some of the more sensitive components liquefied, but that outer shell seems to have held.” Ben reported. “The room's flooded with hazardous material, but we have it contained.”

Richard grimaced. When he heard the drive melted, he didn't think that Ben was being literal. What the hell could have happened? They aren’t even supposed to generate much heat let alone enough to melt superconductors!

“Can they fix it?” Richard asked.

“Can you fix it?” Ben relayed before Richard heard a mumbled and grumpy-sounding response in the background. “Short answer, no.”

Richard sighed. He'd figured as much. “Alright, tell them to get the chamber cleaned up and see if you can help out, decontaminate your armor when you're done. I'm going to get a report made on the situation before I brief the crew.”

“Good thinking sir.” Ben said. “Anything else?"

“Not at this time, Out.” Richard said before ending the communication.

The rest of the bridge crew looked at him expectantly.

“The drive can’t be saved.” Richard reported, unable to keep the bleakness out of his voice.

He didn’t fail to see the reality of their situation, they were now lost in deep space with no way home. What was supposed to be a routine jump had made a turn for the worst.

_At least we didn't get teleported to Oblivion._ He thought, most slipspace drives didn't leave survivors when they malfunctioned.

“Lieutenant Chen” Richard said, hoping for good news. "Where actually... are we?"

“Well... there's a starsystem nearby, we're technically in it, if only by a small margain.” Chen replied after double checking her console. "It's not mapped, but it's where we are. We’re still gathering some basic data on some of the different bodies."

Richard did everything he could to maintain composure, but he wasn't afraid to admit he was more than a little worried, and that the pressure was quickly getting to him. He was able to successfully keep his attitude of confidence up, albeit with a lot of effort. He took a moment to let the tension pass slightly before discipline clamped back down.

“Ok, get me some scans and keep me informed, I want to know what we have to work with.” Richard said as he straightened himself up, he had to be an example to follow, and good posture was a part of that. “Ensign Williams?”

“I'm working on figuring out what happened now.” Williams confirmed, he seemed less downtrodden then the others. "I'm going to need some time."

“Keep me informed.” Richard said.

“Sir, are we screwed?” Lieutenant Gage asked, going very much so out of line, his voice shaking. Richard was more then a little disappointed, he had expected better from a bridge officer.

“Stow the bellyaching Lieutenant.” Richard sternly retorted. “We still have our ship, we aren’t done just yet.”

**Meanwhile**

Getting the armor decontaminated took some time, but eventually Ben was cleaned up and was free to wander the ship while they waited for new orders.

“Curie, what should we do?” Ben asked, looking for some form of instruction to follow. He was uncomfortable with being left to his own devices, something that he was always trying to avoid.

“We could always go meet our new fireteam?” Curie suggested. “That is what we were supposed to do before we were called to assist with the slipspace drive."

“What do you know about them?” Ben asked as he changed direction.

“Fireteam Onyx is a special unit currently composed of eight Orbital Drop Shock Troopers and yourself, as well as me.” Curie said, bringing up their assignment orders on his HUD. “Although we haven’t received any assignments beyond transfer orders to Concord, we are listed as a direct action unit.”

_No surprise there, they don’t make Spartans just to have them drive desks._ Ben thought.

“ODSTs?” He asked. “So they're experienced?”

“Indeed, they were handpicked by Monsieur Kurt himself.” Curie said, the surprise in her voice indicating she had not previously known that.

“Interesting.” Ben said genuinely. If Kurt had picked them they must've done something impressive and noteworthy.

Ben had always been fond of the ODSTs, he'd paid close attention to learning about them, and some of the staff on base were transferred to ODSTs. Unlike the Spartans, they had no Augmentations or Power Armor, but they had still earned a legendary reputation even without those advantages. To go into battle knowing so many of the odds would be stacked against you was something that Ben found very admirable.

“Six of them are currently asleep, the other two are in the starboard armory, helping with weapon maintenance.” Curie reported.

“I'll head there.” Ben said, adjusting his direction once again. Occasionally passing a crew member who would gawk at him as he passed. He didn't like the looks that the crewmembers gave him. They looked at him as if he was some sort of all powerful demigod, when in actuality he was just another human trying to do his job.

When Ben did arrive at the armory, he was greeted by two ODSTs, in their armor's undersuits. Both of them stopped what they were doing and turned towards him as he walked into the room.

Ben sized them all up as they looked at him. There was one with an out of regulation haircut and a scar on his nose who gave an attitude not of shock or fear like some of the crewmembers, but interest and respect as he looked back at Ben. The other one was a woman with long, very out of regulation red hair and green eyes, who looked at him with an expression of excitement.

“So that's him then?” The man with the scar on his nose said. “Our Spartan?”

“No Nathan, I'm sure it's the other guy right behind him.” The woman with the red hair cheekily replied before turning to Ben. “Sorry about him, welcome aboard Spartan.”

Ben thought about what to say for a second before responding. “Thank you.” he said as he took a seat next to them and grabbed one of the battle rifles they were working on and began to silently work on it. For some reason the ODSTs looked at him expectantly.

"What, that's it?" Nathan asked, seemingly disappointed. "I knew you guys weren't talkative, but-"

"You always try to make a bad first impression Nathan?" The woman asked teasingly.

"Only to important people, but you knew that." Nathan replied, seemingly without sarcasm.

"That seems most unwise." Curie said, speaking from Ben's helmet. She noticed from their surprised expressions that the ODSTs did not expect her presence, so she continued speaking. "Oh, my apologies, I forgot to make introductions, I am Curie."

"Wait, are you an A.I?" The woman asked, her expression of surprise fading into one of curiosity.

"Oui, I am." Curie confirmed. “I am interfaced with Ben’s armor through his neural interface.”

“Ben and Curie?” Fairfire asked, seemingly caught somewhat off guard. “I’ll admit, not the names I was expecting, but I guess if that’s your name then that’s your name.”

“It is.” Ben confirmed, not quite sure what had taken her by surprise. “I take it you’re Staff Sergeant Fairfire?”

“I am, and this useless ball of muscle next to me is Private First Class Winters, but everyone calls him Nathan.” Fairfire answered.

“Yo.” Nathan added, seemingly more interested in cleaning the M6C/SOCOM he was holding, taking an extreme fascination with the black finish.

“Pleased to meet you Sir.” Ben said, in making an effort to be a bit more friendly. “I've been told you were all handpicked by Lieutenant Commander Ambrose. That's one hell of an endorsement."

“Yeah, I only talked to him one time, but he seemed friendly enough.” Fairfire said, seemingly totally unaware of just who she had been speaking to. “He said we'd be working with a Spartan, but I wasn't aware we were getting an A.I as well.”

_Huh, that’s an oversight, I’d better fill in the blanks._ Ben thought. “We go everywhere together, we're effectively squadmates."

“Indeed, I was assigned to monsieur Benjamin several years ago. I've known him during most of my lifespan.” Curie added.

“Are you a smart or dumb A.I?” Nathan asked.

Ben tried his best to ignore that, but still gave Nathan a glare from behind his visor. 

_I figure the answer would be obvious._ Ben thought.

“I am a fragment of a smart A.I.” Curie answered.

While Curie explained the intricacies of Smart A.I fragments to Nathan, who did his best to pretend he was interested, Ben put more attention into the rifle he was servicing. After about a minute of silence, Fairfire spoke again.

“So Ben, do you know what happened with the slipspace jump earlier?” Fairfire asked.

“The drive melted.” Ben said nonchalantly.

“Oh.” Nathan grimaced, quickly followed by . “Are we going to be okay?”

“We'll be fine, we should be able to get back to Onyx for a replacement drive soon.” Ben replied. “I can’t imagine we traveled that far when we went through that portal.”

“What portal?” Fairfire asked, now curious.

“We initiated the slipspace jump, and we ended up going through this green portal, instead of the normal ones.” Ben explained.

“Uhh...” Nathan dragged the sound on, never actually forming any words.

They were interrupted by the sound of the intercom coming online. They all stopped working on the weapons and paid attention.

“Attention all hands, this is the Commander. I regret to inform you that we are no longer in the Onyx system and our slipspace drive has suffered irreparable damage due to a presumed malfunction.” Richard said in a voice that boomed throughout the ship. “As of now we are lost in an unknown system and we do not know the way home.”

The ODSTs displayed looks of worry, but Ben was just confused. How could they not be in the Onyx system anymore if they had never entered slipspace?

“That seems rather unfeasible.” Curie quietly commented.

“The only damage we have sustained was to the drive itself. We are working on the situation, for now, continue your duties as normal. We will update you as we gain more information.” Richard said, his words slightly calming the ODSTs.

The armory was silent for several seconds even after the intercom turned off.

“Well, that's it, today sucks.” Nathan said, only somewhat jokingly.

“Uh, yeah.” Fairfire added. “What the hell happened? Were you on the bridge Ben?”

“Yes.” Ben said. “I can't tell you what happened. But I know Commander Miller personally, we can count on him.”

“I hope you're right.” Fairfire said, notably less confidence.

“Should I wake up the rest of the team and brief them?” Curie asked.

“No, let them sleep.” Fairfire said. “I have a bad feeling we're all going into cryo soon anyway, especially if we're lost in deep space.”

**Meanwhile**   
**The Dominion, Bridge**

“Sir, my report is ready.” Ensign Williams reported.

“Go ahead Ensign.” Richard said, his voice slightly weary.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about this?" Bradford asked as he returned to his position beside Richard’s chair.

“The only official recording of something like this ever happening was a case with a colony ship called the UNSC Brisbane about 200 years ago, it attempted a slipspace jump and was seen and recorded having entered an orange slipspace rift.” Williams said.

“The one we entered was green.” Richard pointed out.

“This is the closest incident I could find. Anyway, before the ship entered the portal the shipboard A.I let off an SOS, however nobody could respond before they entered the portal.” Williams continued.

“And?” Richard said.

“They were never seen again, presumed lost with all hands.” Williams said bleakly.

That news set in on the bridge crew hard. Richard could almost physically feel the tension in the room increase.

“Lieutenant Chen.” Richard said after some pause. “Is that report on our surroundings ready?”

“Yes sir.” She said. “We're surrounded by unexplored stars, none of them match anything in our databanks.”

Richard sighed. Their last hope at an easy way home vanished with the news.

“It gets worse.” Lieutenant Chen said. “I've matched up the local galaxies in our starcharts... nothing, we're not in the Milky Way.”

Richard grimaced, their hopes at returning home at all may have just vanished. Even with Slipspace technology, humanity had never reached the rim of the Milky Way, let alone left it entirely.

“Tell me you have some good news Lieutenant.” Richard said, not actually expecting any.

“Actually, I do.” Lieutenant Chen said, sounding slightly more cheerful. “We're currently in the gravity well of a yellow dwarf, with a handful of planets in orbit. One of which you will have to see to believe.”

Richard looked as she put a camera feed of a planet on one of the screens on the bridge, and Richard was utterly shocked. The planet was green and blue, with oceans of what looked like water.

“I'm not done scanning it yet, but from what I can see, it's a fully formed Earth-like world, and it's very similar in size and gravity.” Lieutenant Chen said. “Beyond that, I won't know anything until the shipboard A.I is finished scanning it, for all I know those oceans are made of liquid cobalt and the atmosphere could be pure methane.”

“Keep me informed.” Richard said. He'd almost begun to think he'd have to order his crew into indefinite cryosleep, but thankfully it appeared he wouldn't need to.

“Sir?” Lieutenant Gage said shakily. “Permission to speak freely?”

Richard sighed. “Granted.”

“Sir I have a family back home, what will happen when-” Gage began.

“I don't know Lieutenant, I don’t know.” Richard said honestly, despite how out of line he was, Richard sympathized with the nervous officer. “Worst case scenario, they’ve at least got each other, not to mention a pension.”

The weapons officer went silent, before turning back to his station, the silence from the man feeling unnatural and forced. 

“Lieutenant Gage.” Richard said. “Are you fit to man your station?.”

“Yes sir.” he managed in between ground teeth

Richard needed a fully operational bridge crew, even if it looked like he wouldn't need to use weapons at the moment. But more importantly, having a man break down on the bridge was bad for morale.

“Take a few minutes to compose yourself and then get back to your station. The rest of you listen up.” Richard ordered, receiving a grateful nod from the older Lieutenant as he left the Bridge. “Williams and Chen, plot a course for that world, get me scans on everything. Gillespie, I want a briefing on our situation ready to distribute to the crew, we'll need to tell them the bad news at some point.”

“Aye sir!” They all said, their professionalism restored.

“Engine speed sir?” Williams said.

“Heat up the reactor, get us a full burn, there’s no sense in pushing our equipment.” Richard said.

“Aye Sir.” Williams said, who began to work on his new task.

Richard sat back in his chair, it was going to be a long night.


	7. Chapter 7

**Unknown Space**   
**September 11th, 0101 Standard Time, 2552**

Hours had passed since the disaster with the slipspace drive, during which Richard fought to preserve a sense of discipline amongst the demoralized crew. They ran the numbers dozens of times, repeated scans, doubled up on everything, and came to the same conclusion each time, they were lost in deep space. There were no manmade radio signals, and the only relevant celestial bodies even remotely nearby were the mysterious planet and its moon, as well as some desolate rocks and a gas giant. Bradford had left the bridge to oversee the cleanup effort of the slipspace drive, leaving Richard alone to delegate commands.

“Sir, I have an update on that planet for you ready.” Lieutenant Chen said, her voice slightly strained.

“Thank you Lieutenant, send it over.” Richard said as he looked at the report on his datapad. At their current rate of acceleration towards the planet it would take them around a month to get there, during which she suggested most of the crew enter cryosleep.

This is what all interplanetary travel used to be like before slipspace drives. Richard realized, feeling a pang of sympathy for his ancestors. I suppose I should be glad our reactor and engines still work.

The examination of the planet itself revealed some startling results. The atmosphere was almost a perfect copy of a pre-industrial Earth, with a few notable differences in minor gas concentrations. The oceans were indeed made out of water, and even more startlingly, there was natural life on the planet. From their incredible distance no specifics could be made out, but it seemed at the very least rudimentary plant life had sprouted up.

_At least if we're stuck out here for the rest of our lives we won't starve. _Richard thought, happy with the minor victory. _Although I really hope animal life has evolved, I don’t want to be forced to become vegetarian._

In terms of mass and dimensions, the planet was again similar to Earth. It had a little under 1g of gravity, and a very similar magnetic field to other habitable worlds. Beyond that, few details could be made out, with the apparent exception of its extremely bizarre moon.

“Lieutenant, am I looking at this right?” Richard said as he examined the picture he had been sent.

“Yes sir.” Lieutenant Chen confirmed with genuine bewilderment. "I will admit, I was a bit taken aback as well."

The moon was partially shattered, at least a quarter of it had been utterly demolished by something, leaving massive pieces of the celestial body to hover away from the surface. The pieces seemed to not be affected by the natural polar spin and orbit of the moon, adding further impossibility to the already bizarre anomaly.

“How is that possible?” Richard asked, utterly bewildered. “The gravity of the moon should pull the pieces back towards it.”

“I don't know Sir, I'd have to get a whole lot closer to answer that.” Lieutenant Chen said. “Our scanning equipment has plenty of range, but the closer we get, the better it works. From what we can detect it's similar in composition to Luna, but I'm also reading some unknown elements.”

“Unknown elements?” Richard asked.

“Yes, they’re not on the periodic table.” Chen confirmed.

Richard looked back at the picture. “What kind of disaster caused something like that?” Richard asked, looking at it. “A collision would form a crater, this looks like something exploded from the inside.”

“Maybe some sort of explosion?” Lieutenant Gage suggested. He seemed a bit better after his slight breakdown earlier, but Richard was afraid it was just an act.

_I hope he made Lieutenant for a reason, although he seems intelligent, at the very least._ Richard thought.

“Not likely, anything that could generate an explosion that big would leave some trace of what caused it.” Lieutenant Chen pointed out. "Maybe a kinetic impact, an abnormally large asteroid?"

“It would need to travel at superluminal speeds to do something like that.” Gage said, obviously in deep thought.

“We're getting off topic.” Richard interrupted their thoughts. “We’ll head for the planet and do some further reconnaissance, we might be out here for a little while. Keep our distress signal active, and relay the order to prepare non-essential personnel to enter cryosleep.”

“Will we be going in the freezer too, Sir?” Ensign Williams asked. Richard was willing to look past the informality of the question due to its validity.

“Not us, we have work to do.” Richard said. “Steady out our thrust and calculate our counterthrust.”

“Understood sir.” Ensign Williams said, returning his attention to his workstation.

Richard turned to his datapad and looked at the planet one more time. From the angle the picture was taken at, one of the continents kind of looked like a dragon, but that observation was far too childish and absurd to vocalize.

“Sir, I just received a message from Lieutenant Oswald.” Ensign Gillespie reported, disrupting the quiet that had set upon the room. “He's awake, and on his way to the bridge now.”

_Ah yes, Lieutenant Thomas Oswald._ Richard thought with a hint of resignation. His second meeting with the onboard ONI agent, and he'd have to explain to him that it was at least partially his fault they were lost in space.

After several minutes a man with short brown hair and green eyes walked into the doorway to the bridge in a black ONI uniform. His uniform bore the insignia of a navy Lieutenant, along with the patch of a member of the Office of Naval Intelligence. His posture was unflinchingly stiff, and he practically radiated with a sense of authority and professionalism.

“Permission to come aboard, Sir?” Thomas said in a neutral tone.

“Granted.” Richard said. “Have you been briefed on the situation?”

“Yes, Lieutenant Bradford already filled me in extensively.” Thomas said, now slightly looking irritated. “However, that doesn't mean I know what happened.”

“That's something we'd all like to know.” Richard said apologetically. “As of right now we are lost in deep space, we have no way home and we're extremely far out of UNSC space, even if our slipspace drive worked we don't know the way home.”

“I'm aware.” Thomas said. “But I'm more concerned about how we're going to deal with the Covenant prisoner that I was assigned to escort to Concord.”

“What about him?” Ensign Williams interjected, rather informally. “Those bastards glass our worlds, let him rot in his cell.”

"Focus on your assignment, Ensign." Richard chastised before letting Thomas speak.

“The intel that Elite might have could save a lot of lives.” Thomas said urgently, looking the Ensign disapprovingly. “We need to find a way to coax it out of him, and get that intel back home.”

“Perhaps you misunderstand our situation Agent” Richard said. “We're lost, we have no way home, we're going to have to wait for someone to find us, or to find a charted area of space.”

Thomas sighed with frustration. “For the record, I'm not taking responsibility for this.”

“I don't blame you.” Richard affirmed. “I will take full responsibility for this accident if we can get back home. For now, see if you can get that Elite to talk, let's at least have something to report when we get home.”

Thomas mumbled under his breath as he left. “That's not exactly my area of expertise but-" The rest of his sentence being too quiet to hear.

Richard didn't answer his challenge, as long as Thomas did as he was told they would have no problems. Once Thomas left the Bridge, Richard was temporarily left with his own thoughts. All he was able to think about however, was the horrible situation they found themselves in.

**September 11th, 0117 Standard Time, 2552**

Most of the crew of the Dominion were asleep at this time of day, but those who were awake were abuzz with the news of what had happened. A sense of nervousness and fear radiated around the ship. Most of the crew had families back home on Earth or on other surviving colonies. Nobody really knew what was happening on the bridge, but the lack of communication wasn't helpful.

Ben however, had ample confidence in Richard, and he did his best to share that confidence with the crew. Richard had told Ben many stories about his missions behind Covenant lines, the ones that weren't classified at least. Richard was immensely qualified for this situation, at least, as qualified as someone could be.

Still, Ben couldn’t help but feel slightly nervous, especially since they had no idea which way was home. As far as he knew, they were deep inside of Covenant space, or even a whole other galaxy. While he did have a direct line of communication to Richard, he decided against bothering him, as it would be grossly out of line and risked distracting Richard from what he was currently doing.

But without any updates or further orders, Ben was left alone as Nathan and Fairfire went to sleep once their shift was over. For a couple of hours Ben and Curie elected to use their spare time to help around the ship. Ben mostly assisted with maintenance, as well as helping to carry the heavier things that needed moving. Meanwhile, Curiemade herself at home in the ship's systems almost instantly, doing her best to help everyone with what they needed. Ben didn't like being separated from his friend, but he trusted the other personnel on the Dominion to keep her safe.

_It feels weird not having Curie plugged into my neural lace, my head is so much warmer than normal._ He thought, noticing that the familiar coolness was gone.

While he worked, almost everyone on the ship gave him a wide berth that was a mixture of awe and a small amount of fear. While initially Ben just didn't like it, he grew to outright hate it. He had respect for the crewmembers who were willing to look past the fact he was a Spartan and just work with him. Several of them even tried to spark up conversations, asking about what kinds of adventures Spartans went on. sadly the only stories Ben had to tell were heavily classified (as was most of his life.) Still he didn’t want to disappoint the few crew members willing to talk to him, so he exaggerated a few stories about some of Alpha Companies early missions from the start of the war. When his tasks were done, he decided to ask Curie about what she thought of the crewmembers perception of him.

“Hey Curie.” Ben said, opening a channel directly to her. “Why do all of the crewmembers keep looking at me like they're afraid of me?”

“I can not say for certain.” Curie said after a moment. “But I would assume their wariness stems from the rumors.”

“What rumors?” Ben asked, even more confused than before.

“There are a multitude of usual rumors that are somewhat accurate, that Spartans are trained for young ages to become super soldiers. But there are more... unrealistic ones.” Curie explained. “Some people believe there's no human inside all that armor, that you are just a robotic drone.”

“That's lunacy.” Ben stated, appalled that he and his fellow Spartans were labeled as robots.

“There is also an older rumor about a single Spartan beating up a fireteam of off duty ODST's. But I couldn't find any official source on that, even classified.” Curie continued.

“I think we can discount that, unless it was a misidentification.” Ben said. That's the only excuse he could think of for a Spartan to attack friendly forces unprovoked. “Or maybe it was some sort of training exercise that got out of hand?”

“I can not say.” Curie admitted. “Like I said, it is a rumor, it does not need to be true for it to be prevalent. Regardless of whether or not they have a valid reason, some people will be afraid of you. Spartans have legendary capabilities in battle, and it's only natural to fear what is more powerful than you. It is a leftover instinct from our neolithic ancestors, and it is completely normal.”

Ben was dissatisfied with the answer Curie gave him. He had wanted to be a hero when he signed up to be a Spartan, not someone that inspired fear even among his fellow soldiers.

“If it makes you feel any better, you are obviously respected.” Curie said, realizing his silence and guessing how he felt.

“I suppose.” Ben said, slightly relieved. “So, what should we do now?”

“Well it is almost time for breakfast, most of the crew will be getting up soon.” Curie said. "Maybe we could even meet some more of our new squadmates. Find a holotank and let me download to your armor, I’d be happy to come along with you."

“Sounds good.” Ben said, even though he wasn't really hungry. Still, having Curie back inside his head gave him a sense of reassurance.

When he arrived at the Mess Hall it was already somewhat crowded. Most of the crewmembers were too busy talking about the ship's situation or eating their food to focus on him. He got his food without incident and sat in one of the booths by the windows, as they were the only seats that could hold the weight of his armor.

He noticed he got a few looks when undid the pressure seal on his helmet and removed it, but he just ignored them. By the time he was about halfway through his food, he was joined by a pair of ODSTs who sat at the same booth he was sitting in. One was an older Caucasian man with shaggy black hair and blue eyes, and the other was a younger Asian woman with short black hair and green eyes. They seemed a little surprised when they saw his slightly burned face, but they both recovered their expressions quite quickly.

_I don’t understand why people don’t just ask. _Ben thought._ It’s a deformity from a wound, it’s nothing special._

“Hey, you’re the new Spartan with Fireteam Onyx right?” The man asked.

“I am.” Ben said, paying a bit more attention now.

“I'm Sergeant Meadows, and this is Corporal Sato. We're part of the same unit.” The man said. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“Likewise.” Ben said, shaking both of their hands. Yu seemed a bit wary for some reason, but she did so despite her apparent caution. “I'm Ben, and Curie is in my helmet.”

“That's right, Fairfire said you had an A.I in your suit.” Meadows commented, as if speaking to himself.

“I am typically located in monsieur Benjamin's neural interface, but I digress. It is nice to meet you.” Curie said, her voice emerging from the speakers of Ben’s helmet, even though he wasn’t wearing it.

“Wait, you can do that?” Meadows asked, Yu looked equally surprised, perhaps even a little disturbed.

“Yeah, her datachip plugs right in.” Ben said, pulling Curie's chip and holding it out for them to see, the familiar blue hue giving both of them an indicator as to Curie’s presence.

“Damn, I bet that one piece of tech costs more than your armor." Yu commented, to which Ben didn’t reply, mostly because he didn’t know whether it did or not.

“Wait, if she's in your neural interface. Does that mean she’s inside of your brain?” Meadows asked.

“More or less.” Ben answered. “We've been partners for a couple years now.”

“A couple of years?” Meadows asked, seemingly surprised for some reason.

“Yeah, we've worked together for a little while, she's a good friend.” Ben replied.

“Have you ever worked with ODSTs?” Yu asked.

“Not really.” Ben said, not counting his training. “Just Curie, for the most part.”

“We have only worked with other Spartans.” Curie added in a half truth. “And even then, it was rare.”

“Curie, that's-” Ben began, about to chastise her about sharing classified information.

“Their clearance is high enough to hear it.” Curie explained.

“Is it?” Ben asked, mildly surprised. Usually people of such low rank weren't granted such important information.

“It is, we got bumped up." Meadows confirmed. "Although I'm sure that extends about as far as "you exist"."

"Fucking ONI." Yu commented. "If they fought half as well as they maintained information discipline, this war would be over by now."

_I see, they only have access to certain aspects about Curie and I. _Ben thought._ I will need to double-check just what they’re cleared to know._

As they ate, Meadows continued to ask further questions, which Ben did his best to answer. “So how did you become a Spartan?”

Ben stopped for a moment thinking up a good answer. He didn't want to reveal too much, but also felt that it was a reasonable question he could answer.

“I volunteered.” Ben explained. “But some Spartans were selected for the role. There’s a lot of specific qualifications you need to fill.”

_Hopefully that's a good enough answer._ He thought.

Yu looked at him with an expression that showed further interest, but decided not to push him. Meadows on the other hand, wasn't satisfied.

“So, did you volunteer from the Marines or another branch? Or did you go right into the Spartans?” Meadows asked.

“I went directly into the Spartans, right from being a civvie.” Ben said in a half truth. "The training takes a lot longer though, as you might imagine."

Meadows was obviously still curious, but elected to halt his questioning there.

“What about the armor?” Yu asked, speaking through a mouthful of food.

“What about it?” Ben asked, not understanding the question.

“Like, what's it called? Where did you get it?” Yu asked.

“Mjolnir. This is the Mark V variant, with a prototype Mark VI helmet.” Ben said, laying his hand on the helmet. "I was issued it towards the end of my training."

“I like the angular design.” Yu said. “Can't wait until we get them."

_They'd break their bones just by moving._ Ben thought unpleasantly before remembering the standard SPI could be worn by normal humans, and that some ODSTs had been cleared to use it. "I think they're working on a variant for ODSTs."

“That's power armor right? Like the old exosuits they were testing a couple decades ago?” Meadows asked. "I can't imagine how you would move otherwise."

“It's powered.” Ben confirmed. “Beyond that I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to say about it, but I can at least tell you that without the hydraulics I'd barely be able to move, let alone fight.”

“Yeah I guess that makes sense.” Meadows said. “One of my old squadmates knew a designer on the project. They didn't say much about it, because it was all classified. but they said it cost about as much as a Frigate, but he might have been being metaphorical.”

“It's certainly expensive. I never got handed an official price tag on the suit, but I'm glad to have it nonetheless.” Ben said.

It was around then that he realized his breakfast was long since eaten, and that he should probably get back to work.

“I'm afraid I have to go.” Ben said as he put his helmet back on.

“It was nice meeting you both.” Curie said before Ben collected her chip and inserted her into the back of his head.

The two ODSTs said their goodbyes before the Spartan left to put his tray away and get back to work.

“Was it just me, or was he really pale?” Meadows commented.

“I was going to go with young, he can't be older than twenty.” Yu said. "I guess they really aren't all that special after all..."

“Yeah, weird." Meadows said, even though he didn't agree with her sentiment.

**Bridge**   
**September 11th, 0905 Standard Time, 2552**

Richard was exhausted, he had run the ship throughout the night, and frustratingly, they had come no closer to a way home. Most of the original bridge crew had already gone to sleep, leaving their replacements and the shipboard dumb A.I to run the vessel.

“Sir, are you ok?” Lieutenant Chen asked, looking at him, Richard realized he was staring out the front viewport blankly into space.

“I'm fine, thank you.” He answered, snapping his mind back to attention.

“With all due respect Sir, don’t forget that you need sleep too.” Chen stated. Although her comment was technically out of line, it was well-intentioned and justified.

He gave a weary sigh of reluctance, he wasn’t eager to leave his crew in such a state, but knew that staying awake would be useless if he couldn’t think properly. “I know, I think I will take my leave. But I do have some last minute instructions.”

“Go ahead sir.” Lieutenant Chen replied, with a hint of weariness in her own voice.

“I need an inventory on the entire ship from Engineering. We need to catalogue every screw, every bullet, every computer, and every spare part. If we’re going to be stuck out here, let’s at least know what we have to work with.” Richard instructed. “And delay the order to enter cryosleep for another twenty-four hours, I want all the rumors to die down, and make sure everyone on board is aware of our situation.”

“Was there anything else?” She asked. Although she strived to stay professional, he could tell that she was starting to feel the pressure that had been placed on her shoulders. As the Navigations Officer, it was largely her role to find them a way home, and he shared that burden with her.

“Almost, I need you to keep scanning that planet as we continue to close the distance.” Richard added. “It's our only source of material should we need it, unless we want to start digging away at asteroids.”

“I'll get some scans going now, Sir.” Lieutenant Chen confirmed. “And I’ll relay your orders to the rest of the crew.”

“Good, thank you. Once Bradford gets here, transfer the bridge to him and get yourself some sleep, we’ve got a lot of work ahead of us.” Richard instructed, as he stood to leave the bridge. “You have the bridge, Lieutenant.”

“Yes Sir.” she confirmed. Although she was exhausted, her determination had not yet faltered.

The whole ship was eerily quiet as he reached his quarters, and he found them in a quaint, orderly state. The previous Commander had left some parting gifts on the rack, which he carefully moved before climbing in.

_First day on the job... and all of this happens._ Richard thought, letting his emotions hit him only now that he was in private. Mercifully, dreamless sleep came easily.


	8. Chapter 8

**The UNSC Dominion**   
**September 11th, 1643 Local Time**

Ben had a relatively uneventful day given the circumstances, spending most of his time helping around the ship in whatever ways he could. While he probably should have gone to sleep at some point, he figured that staying awake and making himself useful was a better use of his time, as his need for sleep was reduced by his augmentations.

He was helping a group of technicians with lifting a large titanium panel so that they could access the circuitry beneath, when he was approached by a man in an ONI uniform.

“I take it you’re Sergeant Benjamin?” The man assumed, looking over the Spartan as if analyzing every component of his armor.

“Yes Sir.” Ben confirmed.

“I'm Lieutenant Thomas, Office of Naval Intelligence. I'd shake your hand, but you seem busy.” Thomas said.

“Well, the sentiment is appreciated.” Ben replied. One of the technicians gestured for him to put the panel back in place, which he did. They quickly set to securing the metal plate back in place while Ben held it sturdy.

“Once you're done with that, I require your assistance with another assignment. Lieutenant Bradford has already signed off on it.” Thomas explained.

“I would be happy to help.” Ben said. The technicians finished their work, and gave Ben a thumbs-up, which he returned.

“Follow me, I'll brief you as we go.” Thomas instructed, with Ben following him as they began to walk. “I believe that you’ve already been informed about the Elite in our brig. I’ve been tasked with interrogating it, and I believe I've reached a roadblock.”

Ben remained silent and let him continue to speak as they walked.

“As you can imagine, any Elite is extremely stubborn when giving up information. I'm sure that you’re familiar with their dedication to their duty, and their obsession with their personal honor.” Thomas continued.

“It's an exploitable tactical flaw.” Ben stated. "But it also makes them a formidable foe."

“Indeed, unfortunately it means their psychology is incredibly tough to break.” Thomas said.

“Have you been torturing him?” Ben asked, wondering just how far the agent had gone with his interrogation.

“I don't want him to suffer, I want him to cooperate." Thomas asked, obviously offended at Ben’s question. “That being said, he's a smug son of a bitch, so I'm not having much luck on that front.”

“How can I help?" Ben asked, not understanding where he came into all this.

“That's actually quite simple. Elites may hate Spartans, but they acknowledge your strength in battle.” Thomas explained. “That acknowledgment has led to a sense of begrudging respect for you.”

“And you think he'll cooperate because of that?” Ben asked.

“No, but I believe he'll be intimidated, which is one step closer to cooperation than I'm currently at.” Thomas clarified. "You'll be doing the talking."

"I see." Ben said, now understanding Thomas's line of thought.

“I'll give you the list of questions to ask before you go in. I don't expect you to get anything out of him, but this will be a good way to start wearing down his resistance.” Thomas said.

“I'm not a psychology expert. I'll take your word for it.” Ben replied.

“Thank you.” Thomas said, an air of relief about him. “Too many people on this ship who think they know everything...”

They walked in silence until they finally arrived at the brig. The brig of the Charon Class was larger than the brigs on most other ships of its size due to its role as a troop transport, although they were rarely used for anything besides disciplinary action. Following first contact with the Covenant, minor conversions were made to the cells to make them suitable for holding extraterrestrials as well as humans.

The cells themselves were larger than their historical contemporaries, largely due to concerns about the mental effects of solitary confinement. They contained a bed, a bench, a sink, and a toilet, along with a protected video screen for remote communications. An air vent provided atmosphere, and was small enough that nothing could crawl through it, even if the grate was somehow removed. The hallway featured one-way windows looking into every cell, allowing for safe monitoring of the prisoners.

In the final cell, furthest down the hallway from the only entrance, he could see the first living Elite that he had seen since he was a child, when he was fleeing for his life from them. Ben allowed himself a small amount of pride at how far he had come since then. It's armor had been stripped, and from what he could see it was visibly healthy. In order to prevent him from being completely naked, it appeared he had been given a large blanket or some kind of oversized bathrobe to wrap around himself. It was sitting on the bench, his alien knees having some difficulty sitting on the human made bench.

“Here he is.” Thomas said gesturing at the elite through the window. “His name is Set 'Ladum, at least, based on what we understand from the computer systems in his armor.”

“Has he disclosed anything I should know?” Ben asked.

“Nothing but creative insults." Thomas said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "It's worth noting his rank, when he was captured he was wearing the armor of an Ultra, except for the headdress, for some reason.”

“So this isn't some average grunt.” Ben noted.

“Exactly. That's why it's so important we get him talking.” Thomas insisted. “If we can get it home, we could potentially save a lot of lives.”

“What do you want me to say?” Ben asked, trying to stay focused on the task at hand.

“I’ve prepared a list of questions and topics to cover, give me one moment." Thomas said, making a few gestures on his datapad. A quick download to Ben’s HUD confirmed that he’d received the information, which he elected to display where the information on his weapons was typically stored.

"I have them." Ben reported.

“Excellent, I wish you the best of luck.” Thomas said before walking over to the door's control panel and opening it. 

Set looked up at Ben as he walked into the room, the door closing behind him. Elite's facial expressions were notoriously hard to read, so Ben was unable to read it's facial expression as he inspected Ben, but the noise the sangheili made very much indicated he was surprised by Ben's presence.

“I was not expecting a Demon.” The Ultra said. His voice was rough and seemed to possess some difficulty with the words, but he still seemed to possess some familiarity with the English language.

“You're typically not supposed to.” Ben commented. “Since we already know who each other are, shall we skip the introductions and get right to the questions?”

The Ultra laughed. “If you wish, but don't expect many answers.”

“We'll start with some simple ones.” Ben said. “What's your name?"

“The short one already knows it. Why don't you ask him?” Set asked, probably referring to Thomas.

“I want to hear it from you.” Ben pressed onwards.

“You are not worthy of existence, why should I tell you anything?” It simply responded. The malice in his voice was cold and calculated, giving nothing to 

“On whose judgment are we not worthy?” Ben asked, deviating from the questions to see if he had anything interesting to say on the matter.

“Our Noble Hierarchs.” Set said like it was obvious.

“The Prophets?” Ben asked, even though he already knew the answer.

“That is what your kind calls them.” Set said. "It is a name fitting of their position, even if your language makes me want to rip off my own mandibles."

“They're the leaders of the Covenant, right?” Ben asked.

“Why should I explain anything to you?” Set asked, with what was the closest thing a Sangheili could manage to a smug grin.

“Because you’re never going home, you’re never going to be free again, and your fate will largely be determined by whether or not you cooperate.” Ben said, making an effort to better convey just how the crew felt about him. “Just because we don't torture our prisoners doesn't mean we won't flush you out the airlock if you’re not useful. If you're not worth the air you breathe, why should we bother keeping you around?”

The Elite looked to him more with curiosity than anything else. “Do you really think I fear death?”

“No. I know all about you, you're all a bunch of fanatics.” Ben answered. “Of course, fear or not, it would be really satisfying to drown you in the toilet.” he gave the appliance a nod for emphasis.

“I accepted my fate once I allowed myself to be captured, have you accepted your destiny, Demon?” Set asked. "I'll give you a hint, it's the same end that the rest of your race will face."

“I don't believe in destiny." Ben simply answered. “Fate has no place on the battlefield, so it’s irrelevant to us.”

“What about honor?” It asked. “I already know you possess none, but I wish to hear how you view yourself.”

“I was taught how to fight honorably, and that it was possible to win a battle without violating our morality.” Ben said. “But I'm supposed to be asking the questions here.”

Ben wasn’t sure of what to make of it’s expression though he did note how It seemed to sit taller with the information. “So humanity chooses to lack honour?” 

“You haven’t left us much choice. To fight "honorably" is to lose, therefore we fight in ways that let us win.” Ben flicked his eyes over to the next question displayed on his screen. “What do you know about the planet Concord?” 

The prisoner was slow to answer. Whether that was due to apathy or him genuinely thinking about the question, Ben couldn’t say.. “It was one of the most recent of your worlds to be discovered.” 

"What's got your Prophets so focused on it?" Ben asked.

“It is of no significance.” The Elite did something that might have resembled shrugging one’s shoulders, but Ben very much doubted that was the intention. 

“If the world is of no significance, why not overwhelm our fleet and glass the planet?” Ben waited for it’s answer. 

In the end Set’s reply was simple. “I do not know.” 

“I find that difficult to believe.” Ben stated, knowing well that the Elite was toying with him.

“I was not involved in the purification of that world, nor was I informed as to the Hierarchs intentions for it.” It adopted the same crooked ‘smile’ from earlier. “Take that information how you will, be that as truth or as lies, that is for you to decide.”

Ben sighed and moved onto the next question. “How old are you?” 

Ben had to resist smiling at the surprise displayed by the sangheili’s body language, at least that's what it seemed like. The smile was quickly gone and his madables were closed tightly. “Do I need to repeat the question?” 

The Ultra seemed to think for a moment more before deciding on an answer. “I believe I am around thirty or forty in human years. I would ask you the same.” 

Ben pointedly did not answer the question. “How long have you been a soldier?” 

“I am a warrior, and I have been all my life.” Set stated, sitting proudly with the proclamation.

Ben broke off of the questions for a moment in an attempt to gain more insight into his answer. “What’s the difference?”

The smile returned, this time with more genuine glee then before, although the smugness remained. “The difference is one of experience, of understanding. A soldier is one of any army, a cog in a machine, nothing more. A warrior is unique to whom he serves. One possesses a code of dignity, and the other does not.” 

“What does that make us humans then?” Ben asked.

The Ultra let out what might have passed for a chuckle. “The Hierarchs spoke clearly and without a shred of doubt. Humanity is wretched, weak, and deserving of nought but annihilation. Humanity is without purpose or honor, as the Heirachs have stated. Your defeat is all but certain, I have seen much of your kind in my life, and you cannot hope to survive.” 

He seems to speak a bit more... clearly, then some of the Zealots. Ben noted. Although he wasn’t presumptuous enough to say that Set might have some doubts in his leaders capabilities, it was readily apparent that he lacked the same anger as some of the more Zealous Elites that Ben had studied in training.

“You’ve got firsthand experience with humanity, that’s more than your Prophets can claim to have.” Ben pointed out, noting a key claim in Set’s statement. “If we’re so weak, then why do so many of your Warriors die taking our worlds?”

The sangheili seemed to ponder a moment more. “Humanity has courage, it would have died long ago were it not for that. Humanity may be called many things by my kind, but weak is not rightfully one of them. You are like what you would call a cockroach, admirable in that you resist being crushed, although I cannot say why.” 

_Determination. _Ben thought._ High praise from an Elite._

Ben asked the next few questions and received what might have been considered answers, more often than not they were word games intended to convey nothing. He had prepared to leave when one more question appeared on his hud, a last minute addition by Thomas. 

“What experience do you have with Slipspace?” Ben had taken a step closer to the door, making his intent to leave rather clear.

The smile that had persisted through most of the questioning remained as cocky as ever. “I am a Warrior, not a menial laborer, I have no use for such knowledge. But if you are referring to your current predicament howeve...r” 

Set stopped speaking momentarily, apparently trying to gauge Ben’s reaction. When met only with an unflinching visor, he seemed disappointed. “...I can offer nothing.” 

Ben left the cell without another word. As soon as the door was shut he was approached by Thomas.

“Thank you. Normally I’d criticize you for going off the script, but I’ll admit I was also curious about what he had to say.” Thomas said. “Regardless, you did a good job.”

“My pleasure, if you need any further help with him let me know.” Ben said.

“I certainly will.” Thomas said. “That being said, while you were in there, we received the order for all nonessential crew to head to cryosleep. Check to make sure you have no further orders, then get yourself sorted for cryosleep."

For the first time since the accident with the Slipspace drive, Ben felt a hint of worry. If they were going into cryosleep, it meant that whatever Richard decided was the best course of action was going to take a long time.

“Aye Sir.” Ben confirmed. “And Sir, do you mind if I ask a question?”

“As long as it’s quick, we’ve got duties to attend to.” Thomas answered.

"How did he find out about the Slipspace drive malfunction?" Ben asked.

Thomas sighed. “I wish we knew. He didn’t find it out through me. I’ve already had a squad check the ship for any listening devices or spy cameras, but they came up empty.”

“I understand." Ben said, offering a brief salute before leaving once Thomas dismissed him with a wave of his hand.


	9. Chapter 9

**Cryobay**   
**October 2nd, 0841 Local Time, 2552**

Exiting cryosleep was a fairly simple procedure, one that every UNSC serviceperson was trained in, although most didn’t enter cryosleep with a full set of Mjolnir. The intense cold would cause what was known as “freezer burn” to any bits of skin that had any sort of clothing. Naturally, Ben’s skin was itchy as hell, but it was a minor inconvenience at worst, and it meant that he didn’t have to worry about the lengthy process of equipping the armor.

Since he didn't need to get dressed or get any equipment, he neglected to visit the locker room with the rest of the crewmembers who were waking up. Instead, he contacted Curie through the radio in his helmet, hoping to get brought up to speed on what he had missed.

“Curie, do you read?” Ben reported, checking his internal clock and seeing that nearly a month had passed.

“I am aware, it is good to hear from you. How did you sleep?” Curie asked. She sounded happy to hear from him, which put a smile on his face as well.

“Well enough.” Ben said, doing his best to ignore the flagrant itching across his chest. “What did I miss?”

“We've made substantial progress on our journey towards the planet we discovered earlier. Further scans reveal it is habitable, and apparently has a diverse ecosystem.” Curie reported. “Commander Richard has ordered us to enter into geosynchronous orbit around the planet for further investigation, along with several other smaller matters that are unimportant to your duties.”

_A habitable world, way out in the middle of nowhere? Talk about a lucky break..._ Ben thought. “What are my orders?”

“We're sorting out work parties right now. Your unit has been assigned to the starboard armory for small arms repair and maintenance. Apparently, some of the weapons in there haven't been used for some time, so expect the worst. Ensign Gillespie has offered to task some additional marines to assist you should you need the help.” Curie said.

“We'll have a look at what we're dealing with first.” Ben replied. “Where are the rest of the team right now?”

“Still in the cryobay, completing their wake-up procedures.” Curie responded. “I shall send them to meet up with you as soon as they are ready.”

“Understood, I'll be there.” Ben said.

The ship's hallways were deserted, as most of the crew was still exiting cryo, giving them an unusually quiet nature. Ben made his way to the armory without spotting anything out of the ordinary, although he did overhear a multitude of orders over the intercom from Commander Richard and Lieutenant Bradford, but none of them concerned him or his team.

He found the armory to be unoccupied, and elected to take stock of what they had personally, rather than simply reading a terminal. He used his security credentials to unlock one of the weapons lockers, revealing a series of MA37 Assault Rifles. Ben was relatively surprised, he had assumed that the ship would be outfitted with the more modern marine weapons, not the older army-issue models.

_Maybe those are in the other armory._ Ben thought as he removed one of the rifles from the locker, removed it’s protective and examined it. It seemed that the previous owners of the weapons had been rather rough on them, and they would need a bit of restorative work to bring them up to speed.

_No sense wasting time._ Ben thought. He retrieved a second rifle from the container and got to work on both of them. Around the time he had finished disassembly of the first weapon, he heard the bulkhead open, and the rest of his fireteam walked in.

“Hey Ben.” Nathan said. “Wait, how the hell did get here so fast, doesn’t it take forever to put all that armor on?”

“I left it on.” He answered without looking up from the weapon he was working on.

“Wait, really? What about the freezer burn?” Nathan asked, his widened eyes told Ben that he was rather taken aback by what Ben had said.

“You get used to it.” Ben answered, prompting a faintly empathetic noise from Nathan.

“Yeah uh, no thanks, I don’t wanna be a Spartan anymore.” Nathan said. “I like having all of my bits not be red and itchy.”

Yu gave a faint huff of disapproval at him as she walked by. “They ain’t nothing special.”

_I wonder what I did to irritate her?_ Ben thought, noting her standoffish nature.

“What have we got here Sergeant?” Fairfire asked, ignoring their comments.

“Army weapons, some of the older models. They’re in pretty bad shape.” Ben said, gesturing at the beat up rifle he had just cleaned up. “Curie should have a detailed manifest on everything that's in here, or you could just check the terminal.”

She gave a rather unprofessional grunt in response, seemingly with a hint of disapproval, probably aimed at the weapons former users. “Nathan, Yu, give the ammo an inspection and make sure it's all still good. Everyone else, grab a rifle and get to work.”

“You're having the only person who has experience as a small arms repairman inspect the ammo?” Yu asked, slightly confused.

“Yes, you actually know what you're doing with it, unlike buttkisser and bulletmagnet here.” Fairfire said, gesturing at Nathan and Meadows respectively. Yu gave an indignant groan of reluctance as she walked towards the ammo lockers. “And if I wanted your sass, I would have asked for it!”

While Yu and Nathan began to inspect the ammo stores, the rest of the fireteam began the long and tedious process of restoring the weapons in the armory back into working order. The rest of the Helljumpers quickly began to talk among themselves as they worked, but Meadows and Fairfire decided to seat themselves at the same table Ben was working at, giving Ben a good opportunity to ask about his squadmates unusual hostility.

“Staff Sergeant, did I do something to bother Corporal Sato?” Ben asked, momentarily looking up from his weapon.

“It's because you're a Spartan.” Fairfire bluntly explained as she removed the barrel of an M90 shotgun.

“I don't understand.” Ben admitted.

“She's jealous.” Meadows clarified, although his facial expression suggested a sense of curiosity. “Yu's quite proud of being an ODST, so she, and a lot of other Helljumpers, view you guys as rivals.”

“She didn't seem bothered when we first met.” Ben said, noting that she’d seemed quite friendly when they had met in the cafeteria.

“That's because you had Curie with you, she’s well… a bit of a nerd.” Meadows explained. “Guess it’s all that time in the armory, gets you thinking more about parts than people.”

“...So it’s a matter of pride?” Ben asked. “She should know we’re all on the same side.”

“It's more important to her then it should be.” Fairfire voiced her agreement, as she finished scrubbing the barrel clean. “Don’t worry about her too much, she’ll bitch and moan but all good coffin jockeys do that, she’ll have your back on the field and that’s what matters.”

“So it's not a concern to our effectiveness as a unit?” Ben asked. Although Fairfire had been quite clear, Ben figured that maybe double-checking couldn’t hurt.

Fairfire gave a brief chuckle. “No Ben, I don't believe that it’s an issue.”

Ben was quite surprised by her answer. That was a far cry from how they handled things at Camp Currahee. The slightest break in a soldiers discipline was harshly reprimanded, and although Ben was well aware that the ODSTs typically operated in a far more unconventional and brash way than the Spartans, it was still somewhat surprising to see it firsthand. Regardless, he was not Yu’s superior officer, and he still had a lot to learn about his squadmates, so he elected to trust Fairfire’s judgement.

“If you're going to be worried about something, worry about the fact that we're lost in deep space.” Fairfire said, shaking the now removed pistol grip of the shotgun to punctuate her point. “That is what I would consider a “concern to our effectiveness as a unit”.”

“Not quite deep space, there's that planet, and apparently it’s habitable.” Ben pointed out.

“That's true I suppose, but it's not exactly going to help us find our way home now is it?” Fairfire countered.

“No, it won't.” Ben said, recognizing the point behind her words. “My biggest concern is that we've ended up somewhere in Covenant space.”

“We’d be long dead by now.” Meadows pointed out. "Our distress signal would have lured them in like a pack of hungry sharks."

_Comforting way of thinking…_ Ben thought, although Meadows certainly wasn’t wrong. The Covenant would have picked up on their radio signal extremely quickly, and no matter what manuevers Richard could think up, the odds of victory were practically nonexistent.

“On that note-” Fairfire began but was interrupted by Yu calling to her from across the armory.

“Sarge, we found something, come check this out!” she yelled.

Fairfire placed the magnum she was working on back onto the table and went to see what Yu had found. Moments later, she returned, with a notable increase in the urgency of her movements.

“Not to alarm you Ben, but does that suit have a Geiger counter?” Fairfire asked, although her body language made it very clear that she was concerned.

“Yes, what's the problem?” Ben asked, quickly placing the parts he was cleaning back on the table and standing up.

“Good, come with me, I need you to put it to use.” Fairfire instructed.

Mildly irritated by her vague wording, Ben followed Fairfire back to the ammo racks. She was standing with Nathan next to a panel in the wall that they had removed for one reason or another, and she looked absolutely ecstatic. Nathan however, mirrored Fairfire’s nervous expression.

“Ben's got a Geiger counter, he'll see if it's safe.” Fairfire said.

“Oh come on, I could have told you that!” Yu protested.

He peeked inside of the hole created by the removed panel, which revealed a sizable hidden compartment, it was extremely dark inside due to a lack of lighting, so Ben turned on his helmet light and was quite surprised by what he saw.

Inside of the small room was a litany of Covenant weaponry of all types. As he swept the room with his light it only revealed the presence of more and more weapons. Everything from bulky fuel rod guns to the significantly smaller and less impressive plasma pistols. Beam rifles, particle carbines, focus rifles, and plasma rifles occupied a myriad of storage containers, it looked like a collection. Ben noted that the area was mildly radioactive, but it was well outside of any dangerous levels, in fact, it barely even registered.

“Holy shit...” Nathan muttered as Yu let out a whistle of admiration behind him.

“Is it safe?” Fairfire asked.

“Radiation's minimal, the panelling must be thick enough that it didn't even set off the alarms.” Ben noted, rapping his knuckles on the titanium plate to illustrate his point. “Short answer, yes, it's safe.”

“Nathan, go get a lamp.” Fairfire ordered.

“Aye, ma'am.” Nathan said, going to do as she ordered.

“Ben, lead the way. Let's see what we’ve got.” Fairfire said. “Eyes peeled, I heard some of these things have fail-safes.”

“They do.” Ben confirmed as he climbed in the gap.

As he entered the room, and realizing it was slightly smaller than he realized, it's walls were full of indents and bulges. Large cubic spaces were filled by titanium plating, stretching from the ceiling and walls. As Fairfire climbed into the room, she quickly deduced why.

“This place was built into some of the ship's empty space...” Fairfire concluded.

“I'm surprised a UNSC vessel has so much wasted space.” Ben said.

“You call this a waste?” Yu indignantly asked. “I call this a win! Look at all this stuff!”

“No, Ben's got a point, the ship's structure isn't supposed to be like this.” Fairfire said, her eyes passing over a brute spiker with faint interest. “I imagine this was put in during the construction of the ship.”

“I can't imagine why.” Yu said, seemingly unconcerned as she cradled a plasma rifle as if it was a child. “Also, dibs.”

“They were smuggling Covenant weapons.” Ben guessed, ignoring Yu’s lack of professionalism with potentially dangerous contraband. It was Fairfire’s job to reprimand her, not his.

_Still, she could probably be doing a better job…_ Ben thought.

“That's what I would have guessed, either way, they're ours now, I guess.” Fairfire said.

“We should report this to Commander Richard.” Ben suggested.

“We certainly will, but let's make sure this place is safe first.” Fairfire said. "Start counting up weapons as well, I want an inventory."

“Aye Sir.” Ben and Yu both said.

After only about a minute of searching through boxes of plasma grenades and racks of plasma rifles, Ben found a paper note half concealed underneath one of the storage crates with something written on it.

“Found something.” Ben said as he collected the note before handing it over to Fairfire.

While Yu continued working, Ben and Fairfire read the note with the assistance of his helmet light, which appeared to be some sort of manifest for the Covenant weaponry. There was no indication as to why the alien equipment was stowed away, but it wasn’t hard to guess. Covenant possessions were considered top-tier contraband, and the hidden trackers they sometimes carried had led to more than one planet falling.

_Because that’s what happens when you aren’t careful._ Ben thought, as he held his light steady so that Fairfire could read the paper.

“There's more on the back.” Ben pointed out when Fairfire was done with the front half.

The back half was much shorter and only contained the rest of the manifest. It also had an update log, which had the last entry dated at 2545, around seven years ago.

“Well, that's certainly interesting. Let's see if this is still accurate.” Fairfire said. 

A quick examination revealed the note's contents were up to date. It was a truly extensive cache of weapons, although some were quite a bit more common than others. It seemed that there was an unusually large number of Elite weapons, with only the odd Brute weapon. The crown jewels of the collection were without a shadow of a doubt the pair of wrist-mounted energy gauntlets kept in a hardcase, and the trio of energy swords that accompanied them.

These things are functional. Ben noted, picking up one of the weapons, but electing not to activate it. He returned it to its container, faintly impressed with whoever had managed to steal such a large amount of Covenant weaponry.

“Seems like whoever kept these here abandoned them some time ago.” Ben commented as he rubbed a layer of dust off of one of the plasma rifles.

“Yeah, seems like it.” Fairfire said, idly picking up one of the particle carbines and examining it. “We shouldn’t get distracted. Ben, come with me, we’re going to go report this to the Commander.”

“Yes Sir.” Ben confirmed.

Almost as soon as they had left, Curie opened a priority channel directly to him. Ben noted the usage of the specific protocol, it indicated that she had something urgent to say. “Go ahead Curie.”

“Ben, you and Madame Fairfire have both been requested on the bridge. Your current duties can wait, the Commander wants to speak with you both immediately.” Curie instructed.

“We’re already on our way, we’ve made a discovery in the armory that needs his attention." Ben replied. "What does he need us for?”

“There is too much to explain, but I believe that you are needed for a mission, I will see you on the bridge.” Curie answered.

With the connection severed Fairfire looked to him with a raised eyebrow. Ben quickly brought her up to speed, and they made their way to the bridge. It seemed like the whole ship was buzzing about with more urgency now, although Ben couldn’t guess why.

_I wonder what happened?_ Ben thought, noticing a few wide grins amongst the crew.

Before he could even ask for permission to come aboard, Richard waved them over to the Navigation console, without stopping what he was saying. Through the front window, Ben could now see the planet below them. Just like Curie had said, the green and blue that decorated it’s surface indicated it was just as habitable as Onyx was. It was a familiarity that Ben hadn’t realized he had missed.

“-Increase power to the primary communications dish and forward antennas.” Ben heard Richard finish speaking to Lieutenant Chen. The intense focus on both of their faces only fueled Ben’s speculation.

“I just have, there’s still nothing sir.” Lieutenant Chen said, a hint of dissatisfaction in her voice. “I’ll try searching through all the auxiliary bands, maybe we missed something.”

“Triple check everything, I want to make sure that we’re not missing something critical.” Richard instructed.

“Aye.” She said, returning to her work as Richard walked over to the holotable in the middle of the Bridge, and waved for Ben and Fairfire to join him.

“What’s the news Commander?” Fairfire asked.

“We’ve made a few more discoveries regarding this planet, now that we’ve closed the distance.” Richard answered. “Curie should’ve already told you both that the planet is capable of sustaining life.”

“She did, even if it's a bit… unbelievable.” Ben said. While he didn’t doubt Curie’s discovery, the odds of a planet being naturally habitable for humans were astronomically rare.

“Well, it only gets more unbelievable from here.” Richard said. “Curie, display the image that the forward cameras took.”

The table shimmered like light reflecting off of water before displaying a single still image. It was a high-resolution image taken off the surface of the planet. It showed a snowy environment, trees covered with the powdery substance littered the area, but most startling, was the small town that was the primary focus of the image.

“Not only is the planet habitable, but it’s home to a human population.” Richard revealed.

At once, Ben understood the look of relief that most of the crew shared. Still, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of curiosity that overpowered any relief, and more worryingly, a sinking feeling in his gut.

Kurt had made it a point in the training of him and his company that any Spartan should trust their instincts, and that his own “gut feelings” had saved his life on numerous occasions. Ben had taken that lesson to heart, and always took his instincts into account when judging a situation. When looking at the image of the quaint little human village, Ben didn’t feel any relief, he only felt a sense that something was wrong.

_Well, maybe Richard has more to say._ Ben thought. “I’m not sure I understand, Sir. If it’s a Colony, they should have responded to our SOS.”

Fairfire’s body language shifted suddenly and dramatically as she took in Ben’s words. “That’s… a good point. Why the hell haven’t we heard from them, and where are their ships?”

_That’s another good question…_ Ben thought, taking a quick glance over at Lieutenant Gage’s station. The Radar display on his screen showed only one contact, and it was the planet.

“That's where we start running into problems.” Richard said. “The planet has none of the human radio signatures given off by any kind of wireless equipment, including communications. As far as radio signals are concerned, this planet is dead.”

“That's impossible.” Ben simply stated. Radio signatures were effectively the easiest way to detect civilization, to the point that ONI had been blasting false signals in the far reaches of space for years in an attempt to lure the Covenant away from the remaining colonies.

_Maybe it's a rogue colony? No, that's impossible, not this far out._ Ben thought, quickly dismissing the idea.

“Our current running theory is that these are the descendents of some poor marooned souls from the age of exploration.” Richard explained.

Ben felt a faint hint of sympathy for the people on the planet, if that theory was true, then it suddenly made a lot more sense as to why they didn’t have any sort of communications technology. Castaways were known to return to a sense of primitivism in the absence of any way to keep their equipment maintained, and it was widely considered one of the worst things that one human could do to another.

“But that theory is far from airtight. For starters, we’ve identified hundreds of settlements, spanning across every continent.” Richard continued, immediately throwing Ben’s thoughts into doubt. “If these people were marooned, there sure were a lot of them…”

Immediately, Ben’s suspicions were restored. “Wait a moment, if they have a large population, they should have the capability to at least produce some kind of radio communications.”

“Actually Sir, I believe that I may have a theory as to what’s going on.” Lieutenant Chen interjected from her navigation station.

“Go ahead Lieutenant.” Richard said, Ben and Fairfire shifted their attention as well.

“When I said that we didn't detect any unnatural radio transmissions, I meant that we didn't detect any... normal, radio transmissions.” she said, looking for the right to explain what she was saying.

“Elaborate.” Richard instructed.

“All UNSC and Covenant equipment that uses any kind of radiowaves gives off a signal that can be detected by anyone with a means of detecting them, which we obviously do.” she explained. “However, these signals have specific patterns to them, any artificially generated signal has several unique characteristics that gives away that they are made by a piece of technology and not a cosmic anomaly, like a star.”

“Lieutenant, I don't mean to be rude. But we have a very busy day ahead of us.” Richard said., much to Ben's relief.

She nodded. “The people on that planet must have their own communications network that also uses radio waves, but however it works, it's not compatible with ours. From what I can tell, it's also exceptionally primitive."

“How primitive?” Richard asked, looking towards the planet with a newfound curiosity.

“I can't say, but the readings our antennas are getting are wildly inconsistent, indicating that the radio equipment is powered by inefficient energy sources and lackluster antennas.” She explained. “They also seem to have a lot of trouble escaping the planet’s magnetosphere, which suggests a low signal strength.”

He thought it over, before quickly realizing the specifics probably didn’t matter too much. “Can we get a signal down there, find some way to communicate with them?”

“Probably, but I'd need more time, and I'd need the assistance of Ensign Gillespie and Curie.” Lieutenant Chen said.

“I would be more than happy to assist you, I am extremely familiar with the behavior of radio waves.” Curie said, her hologram glowing slightly brighter with excitement.

“Excellent, Gillespie, assist her however you can.” Richard said, looking at the man in question, who was still manning his communications and operations station. “And instruct the rest of Fireteam Onyx to head for the Ready Room.”

“Aye sir.” Ensign Gillespie said before looking at what Lieutenant Chen was sending to his monitor.

"Are we going to be making some new friends Commander?" Fairfire asked, guessing her objective.

"Hopefully." He replied. “This will effectively be a first contact situation, so I’ll need a moment to prepare. Head down to the ready room, I’ll be down to brief you momentarily.”

“Aye Sir.” Fairfire said. “Come on Ben.”

As two of them left the Bridge, Ben took one last glance back at Richard. Although it wasn’t clear, he could have sworn he saw a hint of doubt in the man’s eyes.


	10. Chapter 10

**Ready Room**   
**October 2nd, 0931 Local Time, 2552**

The ready room of a warship was traditionally used by strike craft pilots for a multitude of purposes, it seemed that this time however, Richard had elected to use it to brief Fireteam Onyx on the situation. In the first row of seats Fireteam Onyx sat, having a rather loud but somewhat civil debate about what they had been summoned for. Although the seats clearly weren’t built with Mjolnir in mind, they didn’t protest under Ben’s immense weight.

“So, did the Commander say what kind of-” Meadows began to ask, but Fairfire cut him off.

“No, he didn’t.” She said, not even bothering to raise her voice at him.

“Oh come on, I didn’t even get to finish my question!” Meadows protested.

“The answer is still no, he didn’t give us specifics.” Fairfire said. “All I know is that we’re going planetside, and that we’re probably going to be making contact with these people… whoever they are.”

_Hopefully Curie can find out the answer to that particular question._ Ben thought, although he honestly couldn’t fathom what kind of organization would choose to distance themselves so far from human-controlled space, let alone at the height of the war with the Covenant. The matter of their bizarre communications technology also threw a wrench in any of his efforts to guess who they could be.

“I hope that he knows that we’re uh, not exactly cut out for diplomatic work.” Nathan said, flexing the Helljumper patch on his shoulder to illustrate the point of his statement.

“Commander Richard knows what he’s doing.” Ben said, knowing fully well that Richard was well-versed in the nuances of command.

“Well he’s a warship Commander, not a diplomat…” Yu commented, her arms crossed across her chest in a manner that Ben found surprisingly irritating. “Shut up Corporal.” Fairfire chastised. “Your lip is gonna get you into some trouble one of these days, and I am not going to bail you out when it does.”

Before the hot-headed helljumper could respond, the bulkhead to the ready room opened, and Richard entered. The squad stood to attention, but he relieved them with a brief wave. He took a place at the holographic projector at the front of the room, and gave a quick glance throughout the room.

“Sergeant Fairfire, is this your entire unit?” He asked. Although he concealed it well, the slight sag in his shoulders pointed to a hint of concern.

“Yes Sir.” Fairfire confirmed.

Richard gave a faint nod. “Very good, let’s get down to it. Curie, get me a wide shot of the planet on the main projector.”

Curie silently and invisibly complied, placing a picture of the planet onto the wall before them.

“Thank you.” Richard said, before turning back to the squad. “Given that we have only recently made a series of critical revelations regarding this world, I would ask that you all put aside what you’ve been told and let me brief you from the start.”

He started by recapping some basic information regarding the planet's actual composition and traits. It had only a subfraction under one G of gravity, an earthlike magnetosphere, and a breathable nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere. By every stretch of the imagination, it was like any other colony world.

“With the basics out of the way, let’s cover our most recent discovery. Curie, bring up the image from surface grid forty by thirty-two.” Richard continued.

The image shifted again, this time to the snowy village Ben had seen earlier. He was able to make out more details this time, like billowing chimneys and a few parked vehicles. All of the ODSTs did not react, as Fairfire and Ben had already spread the word.

“I’m sure that Sergeant Fairfire has already shared what she knows about the human population on this planet, so we’ll cover some of the more notable specifics.” Richard said. “For starters, we believe that it is almost a certainty that these people have no means of interstellar communication, including starships. As such, we believe that they are disconnected from the UEG, and as a result, the UNSC.”

“Uh, permission to speak Sir?” Nathan asked as he scratched the back of his head. Richard gave him a silent nod, so he continued. “Does that mean we’re working with Innies here?”

“It does make some sense.” Fairfire subtly interjected. “If you’re gonna hide from the UNSC and the Covenant, there’s no better place than the middle of nowhere.”

Disturbingly, her words made a lot of sense, although that didn’t explain what the Insurrectionists would be doing this far out into unknown space in the first place. Richard appeared to tolerate her interjection, as her words had merit.

“There is a very real possibility that this planet is inhabited by secessionists.” Richard answered, the scowl on his face saying more than his words did. “Although I suspect we won’t have our answer until you complete your mission. Speaking of which, Curie, please bring up Landing Site Theta.”

The holographic image shifted again, this time reforming into a different snowy village than the previous one. This one was smaller, and seemingly had a more industrial focus, judging by the large digging machines that were visible. Richard gestured toward a large clearing to the North of the village as he spoke. “You will be touching down here, and making your way toward what we suspect is a small mining town. Your objectives are as follows, gather as much intelligence on these people as you can, and should you deem it to be a good course of action, establish first contact.”

First contact? Ben raised an eyebrow behind his visor. Some quiet murmurs from the ODSTs confirmed their doubts as well, the last time the UNSC had performed a first contact scenario, the war with the Covenant had begun.

“Now, any questions?” Richard asked. Immediately, most of the squad raised their hand. “Corporal Sato, go ahead.”

“What if we find out they are Innies, what are the rules of engagement?” Yu asked.

Richard frowned, his eyebrows scrunched up as if in deep thought. “Well, in the worst case scenario that these people are hostile, you are authorized to return fire, but do everything in your power to avoid raising hostilities. Nevertheless, your safety remains our top priority for this mission, so if fighting does break out, proceed to extraction immediately. Next question, Sergeant Meadows.”

“Sir, do we have any way to perform wireless communications with these people?” Meadows asked, prompting a few confused looks from the other ODSTs.

_If we did, we wouldn’t risk a recon mission in the first place._ Ben thought, but did not voice his retort. Regardless of how simple the question was, clearing the air of misunderstandings was the purpose of briefings. Misunderstandings got soldiers killed, and especially in a scenario where diplomatic contact was a very real possibility, minimizing them was paramount to any sort of success.

“We suspect so, but we can’t do that right now, if that’s what you’re asking.” Richard answered. “However their communications technology works, it’s not compatible with our systems. That being said, with a bit of time and some more intel, we might be able to change that. Next question, Private Wilson.”

The ODST cocked his head. “So just to be clear… we don’t know where these guys came from?”

“I’m afraid so. Curie, do you have anything to comment?” Richard asked, looking up to the holographic projector as if speaking to her face.

A moment later, her voice funneled through one of the intercom speakers in the room. “It is possible this is a lost colony of ours, but it is also possible it is made by separatists or insurrectionists. It is clearly not connected to human civilization as we know it. The civilization on this planet is pre-spaceflight, and we have not even detected any man-made debris in orbit.”

“They have no ships, at all?” Nathan asked, his eyes widened as her words sank in. “I thought you meant they just had no slipspace drives…”

“Indeed, they have no spacecraft, although we have spotted a handful of water-based and atmospheric naval vessels.” Curie said. “Do you have any other questions?”

Ben raised his hand, prompting Richard to gesture to him to speak. “Sir, why land at such a remote location? If we’re looking for intel, we could try one of the urban centers.”

“We don’t want to cause a panic.” Richard answered. “While they seem to have some aircraft, we’re likely to create something of global event if we set down in a major city with a spaceship. It’s also likely that these people don’t even speak the same languages as us, so we’ll want to get some information on that before we try for a more urban insertion.”

Ben nodded, Richards words made sense. He was hoping to avoid the same kind of first-contact scenario that the Covenant had opted for. They had simply touched down a dropship in the middle of an urban center on Harvest, and attempting to avoid that kind of interaction with these people was probably a good idea.

Fairfire however, seemed somewhat worried by what Richard said. As the squad leader, any questions she had took priority. “You don’t think they speak English?”

“It’s a likely possibility.” Richard confirmed. “As such, Curie will be accompanying you to serve as a translator should the need arise. Ben's armor is capable of housing her, and this goes without saying, but her safety is critical, do you all understand?”

The ODSTs gave a stern nod, any sort of violation to the Cole Protocol was not an option.

“I have installed every known language and a translation software kit from the ship's database.” Curie added. "In the event they do not know Base English, we will still have a chance to communicate."

“Are their other questions?” Richard asked. “Corporal Sato, go ahead.”

“What about equipment?” She asked. "Do we need to bring anything out of the ordinary here?"

“Pack light, minimal load, you’ll need speed more than firepower. Even in a worst case scenario, you should be running, not fighting.” Richard answered, seemingly with a bit more respect for this question then her previous inquiry. “Curie will be acting as a carrier for all standard First Contact data packages, so she will be handling all non-standard equipment.”

“Understood, when do we depart?” Fairfire asked.

“Oh-nine-forty-five.” Richard answered. “Any further questions?”

Nobody spoke up.

“Stay safe, you’re all dismissed.” Richard said.

**Orbit of an unknown planet, Pelican Zulu One-Nine-Eight**   
**October 2nd, 0952 Local Time, 2552**

The Pelican began to slightly rock as it began to undergo atmospheric entry, the familiar sounds of shaking titanium offering Ben a slight bit of reassurance on what would be his first real mission. The troop compartment of the Pelican was filled with chatter between the Helljumpers, while Ben and Curie quietly listened.

“So Sir, we're still getting paid right?” Wilson asked. “Like I know we're stuck out here, but are we still making money?”

“Can't say for sure Private.” Fairfire responded. “Ask one of the officers when you get a chance that actually handles that kind of thing.”

“Cause like, I love my job and all, but I'm trying to pay off my dad's mortgage...” Wilson continued, clearly not paying too much attention.

“Shut your trap and process what I said Marine.” Fairfire ordered.

“Actually that brings up a good question, what does a Spartan make?” Nathan asked, turning to Ben as if expecting an answer.

Ben stopped inspecting his battle rifle and turned to face him. “I’m an E-Five, I make the same as any other Sergeant.”

“Wait, Spartans don't get paid more than us?” Meadows asked, seemingly surprised.

“No, why would we?” Ben asked, reflecting on what an odd question that was. “We’re still soldiers, same as you.”

“Yeah, why would they? Under the armor, they’re no different from us.” Yu said indignantly. Even though what she said was clearly intended as a backhanded insult, it was actually somewhat reassuring.

_At least she understands that we’re still human under the suit._ Ben thought, still disturbed from what Curie had told him regarding the rumors that surrounded the Spartan project.

“Well that’s a fair point, but doesn't the brass send Spartans on high-risk missions all the time?” Meadows asked.

“They do, but we're trained and equipped to be ready for them.” Ben said, feeling unwilling to disclose just how many Spartans for whom that had not helped. “And everyone gets hazard pay in situations like that, Spartan or not. You’re a Helljumper, you should know that.”

“I uh… yeah, fair enough.” Meadows said, awkwardly leaning his helmet back against the walls of the Pelican.

“Alright, cut the chatter, I have some instructions for you knuckleheads and I don't feel like repeating myself.” Fairfire loudly commanded.

The cabin quieted down as everyone gave Fairfire their attention.

“Now I just want to stress something here, our objective is to collect intelligence, that’s it.” Fairfire stated. “The Commander instructed us to initiate first contact if we have a good opportunity to do so, but otherwise, we’re staying quiet, got it?”

“Yes Sergeant!” The squad confirmed.

“Uh… Liz, you know that black armor and white snow don’t exactly mix, right?” Nathan asked.

Fairfire looked at him like he was stupid. “It’s around ten in the morning Nathan, think about where on the planet we’re going.”

“Uh… towards the north?” Nathan answered, before the thought clicked in his head. “Oh, right, it’s gonna be dark!”

“Congrats Nathan, you’re a goddamn scientist.” Yu commented, earning a soft chuckle from some of the other Helljumpers.

“One last thing!” Fairfire shouted, grabbing everyone’s attention again. “If this does end up going south, we will radio Fireball for extract. We do not stick around and fight a battle we didn’t come here to fight, am I clear?”

“Yes Sergeant!” The team shouted again.

“Good.” Fairfire said. Around them, the Pelican ceased it’s shaking, and the sounds of titanium under immense air pressure could no longer be heard.

“We're wrapping up reentry now. Standby, we'll be on the ground shortly.” Fireball said over the radio.

“You heard the lady!” Fairfire said to the ODST's who began final preparations before glancing at Ben. “What about you Curie, you ready?”

“I may not be a qualified diplomat, but I will help however I can.” Curie reaffirmed.

“That’s good enough for me.” Fairfire said. “How about you Ben?”

“Status Green, I’m ready to go.” Ben said.

“That's also good to hear, hopefully your first mission with us is a smooth one.” Fairfire said, her voice brimming with confidence.

“I am sure it will go very well Miss Fairfire.” Curie said confidently.

The Staff Sergeant let out a snort of amusement at Curie’s choice of words, before running a quick inspection on her shotgun. Ben followed her example, doing the same with his battle rifle. The rest of the trip was relatively quiet, it didn't take much longer before Fireball spoke over the radio once again.

“Alright boys and girls, this is your stop. Have fun down there!” She said as the dropship begin it’s final descent to the planet’s surface.


	11. Chapter 11

**Unknown Human World, Northmost Continent**   
**October 2nd, 1042 Local Time, 2552**

The evergreen trees shook slightly as a harsh breeze blew across the forest, sending snowflakes to the ground where they joined the rest of their kind. The terrain was flat, but the deep snow meant walking took a little bit more effort than it normally would. Still, Ben had to keep raising his feet far higher than the rest of his squad, as his heavy armor made him more prone to sinking.

Thanks to their advanced armor, even the ODSTs didn’t feel the cold. Even the worst blizzards stood no chance of penetrating armor that protected the occupant from the vacuum of space. Onyx team maintained a staggered column through the forest, with Ben taking point. Even in the dark, his enhanced eyesight let him see anything around them, combined with Curie’s assistance and the advanced systems of his helmet, nothing would sneak up on them.

“This snow is really damn deep.” Nathan said as he pulled his foot out of a sunken pocket concealed beneath the snow.

“Really? I hadn't noticed!” Yu yelled from the back of the column, as she struggled to keep her own feet moving.

“Can it!” Fairfire replied. Her tone implied annoyance, but she kept her voice low and spoke over the radio to ensure everyone could hear her. “Keep your observations relevant and your voice low, use your damn radios!”

“Yeah, about that…” Meadows responded. “Why the hell do people live here? If the rest of the planet is green and sunny, I can’t imagine why you’d live here.”

“This planet has a very diverse ecosystem, Sergeant Meadows.” Curie interjected. “Remove any comparison of a terraformed world from your mind, this planet has likely gone much of the same natural development as Earth.”

Ben keyed his own radio to interject. “That still doesn’t explain why these people chose to live here, and not somewhere more habitable.”

“Well, maybe you’ll get to ask em’.” Nathan pointed out.

They proceeded slowly, the snow hampering their progress more than they had anticipated. As they reached deeper into the pine forest, the obstruction lessened somewhat, allowing them to pick up the pace.

_That’s good, maybe we can-_ Ben thought, before he spotted something which forced him to stop that train of thought. “Sir, we’ve got tracks, ten o’ clock.”

_Big ones too, not unusually large though. Apparently some of the outer colonies had some big fauna before they were glassed._ Ben thought as he got a better look.

The squad changed course, quickly reaching the tracks, where the rest of the squad made the realization Ben did. The footprints resembled those of something like a bear, but were far too large for them to be part of any Earth-native species.

“Holy shit.” Nathan said as he admired the tracks.

“Uh, yeah, that's big.” Yu added, reaching down and scooping up some of the snow with her hand.

“Curie, what do you think?” Fairfire asked. She subconsciously adjusted her hands to grip her shotgun tighter, as if expecting the creature to be a threat.

“While they are large, they are not unusually so. Unfortunately, I neglected to update my known fauna databases before leaving the Dominion.” Curie said, regret obvious in her voice. “Most regrettable, I will correct that as soon as I return.”

“Well that’s too bad. Take some pictures with Ben's helmet camera and upload them for later, we still have our objectives.” Fairfire said.

“Yes, Miss Fairfire.” Curie confirmed. Ben noted that this time Fairfire showed no sign of amusement, she was focused on the mission and her surroundings.

_Good instincts._ Ben thought, returning his own attention to checking their flanks.

Leaving behind the tracks they continued on their path towards the village. After walking at least another kilometer, they suddenly heard an explosion in the distance, large enough that it could be heard quite distinctly by everyone in the squad. The whole squad dropped to a kneeling position and raised their weapons, sweeping the surrounding forest for contacts.

“What the hell was that?!” Nathan demanded, his vital readout on Ben’s HUD noted his raised heart rate.

“Sounded small, a grenade maybe?” Meadows suggested.

“Yeah, or a really big ass gun.” Yu proposed.

“Couldn’t be.” Ben pointed out. “That explosion didn't come from a barrel, it was large and uncontrolled.”

“Either way, I doubt it's a fight, we'd be hearing more explosions, gunshots as well.” Fairfire said.

“Could just be a freak accident.” Wilson suggested. “Maybe some fuel being blown up?”

“Or perhaps an unknown natural phenomenon.” Curie suggested.

Fairfire slowly left her kneeling position. “Well, we can't say for sure. Either way, let's pick up the pace.” Fairfire ordered.

The squad continued onward without any more discussion. No further explosions rang out, and they had entered within a kilometer of the town when Ben's enhanced vision spotted something stuck to one of the trees, not even a few meters away from one of the ODSTs. Curie spotted it at the same time.

“Hold!” She called out in panic over the radio, all of the Helljumpers immediately froze in place.

Ben raised his fist to get everyone’s attention, before pointing at the object. “IED, on the tree.”

The rest of the squad looked to where Ben was pointing and were surprised to see what looked like a grenade stuck to the tree. It was hooked up to some sort of small rectangular metal box, fitted with a large lens.

_A laser sensor? Either way, it’s nonvisible._ Ben thought.

“Jesus Christ.” Nathan said, taking several deep breaths. His normal light-hearted demeanor disappeared as he stood not twenty meters from an explosive he would have wandered right into. The rest of the squad loosened up a bit as well, but their discipline recovered quickly, and they held their formation.

“Curie, scan it.” Ben ordered, moments later she answered.

“It is done.” Curie reported. “The affixed device is some sort of optical sensor, and the grenade is triggered by some kind of related fuse. It has no visible safety mounted, and it is likely armed.”

“Catch all that Sir?” Ben asked.

“Yeah..” She said, her visor didn’t move a millimeter as she thought up a solution to the problem. “Curie, what’s standard protocol say to do?”

“Detonate the ordinance to reduce the threat to civilian travellers.” Curie answered.

Fairfire eyed the explosive for a moment before speaking. “So we should shoot it?”

“That seems like the best way to disarm the threat.” Curie stated..

Fairfire gave a nod of acknowledgment. “Alright everyone, get back to a safe distance!”

The squad did as she asked, retreating to a safe distance and taking cover, most of them behind a large fallen log.

“We're clear.” Ben said as he positioned himself accordingly. His battle rifle would be ideal for the single accurate shot needed to disable the improvised explosive device.

“Copy that.” Fairfire said. “Take it out at your discretion.”

“Wilco, fire in the hole.” Ben said. He took a single shot at the IED, causing it to detonate immediately, spraying shrapnel and flames in every direction. Wood chips from the tree it was mounted on peppered the surrounding snow as the tree swayed, attempting the stay standing, which it surprisingly did.

_That’s odd, any UNSC grenade would have been labeled, and it would have had a safety to prevent detonation when shot. _Ben thought, perplexed by the strange device._ Then again, IEDs are unique little bastards, maybe it was a homemade device?_

“Well, that was exciting.” Curie said, a hint of relief in her voice.

“Sir, we should keep our eyes open. There won't be just one.” Ben advised.

“Yeah, I know...” Fairfire said, obvious dread in her voice. “Alright, eyes peeled everyone, take it nice and easy.”

The team began to slowly advance again, this time with Curie diverting all of her power towards surveying their surroundings. They encountered several more of the IED's, each one mounted to a tree at around waist height. Avoiding them was easy, as it seemed their only method of detonation was being hit with substantial force or a close-range proximity detonation. 

Actually clearing a path through the explosives was similarly easy, as bullets were more than sufficient to disable or detonate the explosives. Ben noted they detonated more then they didn't, which was alarming, whoever built these had built them well.

_Perhaps these are a local model of mine, if so, why make them?_ Ben thought. “What are they trying to keep away?”

“Wolves maybe…” Nathan said, shifting his DMR with notable discomfort.

“Or maybe whatever animal those big-ass footprints belonged to?” Yu suggested.

“That’s reassuring…” Nathan sardonically noted, his visor shifting to look out into the forest with renewed purpose.

“We don't know why these things were made.” Ben said, attempting to maintain healthy skepticism. “There could be some sort of local conflict we don’t know about.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Fairfire said, raising her fist to halt the squad. “We should consider pulling out, we’re obviously somewhere that visitors aren’t welcome.”

“We’re scrubbing the mission completely?” Ben asked, normally it was against his instincts to question a superior officer, but abandoning the mission entirely seemed like an overreaction. “Even if we aren't going to make contact, we should still consider doing some recon, maybe figure out why these things were put here.”

“...Maybe, I'll have to call it in.” Fairfire said, before keying her helmet radio to speak with the Dominion high above.

As the rest of the squad waited for Fairfire to finish her brief exchange with the Commander, Ben spotted something out of the corner of his eye before them. Whatever it was, it was considerably large, and blended well with the dark pine forest. He snapped his rifle to attention and took aim down the sight, but nothing was visible.

“Sir, movement, about a hundred meters out.” Ben called out, keeping his voice quiet and speaking over the radio.

“Standby.” Fairfire said, quickly ending her communication with the Dominion as she gripped her shotgun with renewed vigor. “What is it?”

“Wildlife I'd guess, far too big to be a person.” Ben answered. Even with his enhanced perception, he couldn't get a good look at what he had seen, it was almost like the creature must’ve had fur specifically designed to blend into darkness.

_That doesn’t seem likely, a dark-furred creature in a snowy environment, what are the odds of that?_ Ben thought, although his knowledge of wildlife wasn’t great.

“How big Sergeant?” Fairfire asked. She’d joined him at his position, and attempted to follow his gaze, but Ben couldn’t spot the creature again. Ben was about to give his response before the whole squad heard an animalistic roar from the same direction Ben was facing.

“Big.” Ben simply reaffirmed as the roar subsided. “I didn’t get a good look.”

“Oh hell.” Meadows quietly muttered.

All of the ODSTs leveled their weapons and tensed up considerably, a stance Ben had already adopted.

“Steady!” Fairfire called out. “Hold your fire!”

Even despite the frightful situation, the well-trained and disciplined Helljumpers stood their ground. In the distance, the trees shook again, but this time something emerged. One of the ODSTs let out a swear in a language Ben didn't recognize as a menacing creature emerged from the trees before them.

The animal was very large, slightly smaller than a Warthog. Its appearance was similar to that of a bear, but with so many unnatural features it was only a passing resemblance. A layer of dense black fur, broken only by what appeared to be plates of bone armor coating anywhere where joints weren't present, however large areas of fur were still present around it's larger flanks. Some of the plates formed spiky protrusions, looking unnaturally sharp and dangerous. The feature that kept Ben's attention however, was a set of red eyes that appeared to be faintly glowing from behind a mask of bone.

“Ben...” Curie said, obviously worried, but he also picked up a spark of curiosity.

“Sir, orders?” Ben asked, although he’d already lined up a shot. The creature practically radiated with hate, and his gut feeling was adamant that a fight was inevitable.

Before Fairfire could respond the creature charged towards them, and from the trees behind it two more of the creatures emerged, taking up flanking positions behind the leader as it barreled towards them. Suddenly confronted with two additional tangos, Ben steadied his aim on the leader as Fairfire gave the order.

“Weapons free!” She shouted.

The squad did as she ordered, unleashing a barrage of gunfire at the targets. However, half of the squad was armed with submachine guns, which fired small-caliber rounds with a shorter effective range, rendering their effect minimal. Fairfire drew her magnum to contribute, her shotgun lacking the range to engage at that distance despite the creature's rapid advance. Nathan, Yu, and Ben were the only ones with weapons ideal for their current engagement range, with full sized rifles capable of precision fire at range.

None of the creatures were stopped by the initial wave of gunfire, but all of them were forced to reduce their pace by the barrage of projectiles. Ben focused his fire on the sections of flesh unprotected by bony plates, successfully managing to shatter the front left leg of the leader with a well-placed burst from his battle rifle, causing the beast to tumble and fall.

“Ben take the left one, everyone else take down the bastard on the right!” Fairfire shouted, recognizing that the leader was no longer an immediate threat.

Ben did as she asked, shifting his fire onto the rapidly approaching creature. At first he prioritized the creature’s legs, trying to immobilize it for an easy kill until he noticed a chink in the beasts armor slightly behind one of its eyes. A quick burst through the hole perforated its skull, dropping the beast dead in its tracks. A quick glance confirmed the ODSTs had punched more holes into their target then was probably necessary, rendering it either paralyzed or dead. The skirmish had lasted only a few seconds, but it had still gotten their blood pumping with renewed vigor.

“Leave the last one!” Fairfire commanded as Ben raised his rifle to kill the wounded and final target.

“Do as she says! I simply must examine it!” Curie said, her cautious attitude overridden by her curiosity.

_Understandable, I’m hardly a scientist and I still want to know what the hell those were._ Ben thought. 

“Yes sir.” Ben said, before swapping his partially empty magazine for a full one.

The ODSTs cautiously advanced on the wounded animal, weapons raised. Not once did it calm down or give even the slightest indication that it was in pain. Instead it feverishly continued to fruitlessly crawl with it's remaining limbs toward Fairfire and Ben, who both approached it.

“Sir, permission to pacify the... hostile?” Ben asked, uncertain which word he wanted to use.

“Granted, just stop it from moving so damn much.” Fairfire said, kneeling before it the demented creature struggled towards her with fury in its eyes. “Pin it so we can get a good look at it.”

Ben walked the remaining distance to the beast until he was within striking range. When the beast lunged its head at him, Ben grabbed it by the neck and caught the beast in a choke hold.

The first observation Ben made was how strong the damn thing was. Even wearing the most advanced power armor in the UNSC's arsenal and genetically augmented to superhuman standards, Ben was barely able to keep the beast still. Even in a choke hold, the beast continued to struggle against his grip, desperately trying to free itself. A swift elbow to one of it's remaining legs shattered the bone, lessening the amount of work Ben had to put in to keep it still. With the beast pinned and able to be killed at any time, the Helljumpers cautiously approached it, although they wisely did not lower their weapons.

“What is it, Liz?” Yu asked as she looked at the animal.

“I have no goddamn clue Corporal.” Fairfire said as she stared the beast down, the beast stared back. “Have any of you ever seen anything like this?”

Every single ODST gave a quick variation of “no”. Ben likewise confirmed that he hadn’t.

“Looks like some sort of mutant from a shitty horror movie Sir.” Nathan commented.

“Yeah, I agree. Ben, how strong is it?” Fairfire asked.

“Pretty damn strong!” Ben said as he tightened his grip as it started to dig it's back legs into the ground trying to free itself. “But I can hold it."

“No need, we've had our look, kill it.” Fairfire said dispassionately.

Ben didn't bother drawing his weapons, he simply tightened his grip and snapped its neck, before letting it's limp head fall to the ground.

“I certainly hope it wasn't endangered.” Curie said sadly.

“Don't worry, I'll wrestle another one for you.” Ben jokingly offered.

“Uh, Sir, the others are uh...” Wilson interjected, but quickly trailed off.

“What is it Private?” Fairfire asked before turning her head and watching as the last of the other two creatures finished dissolving into thin air.

“What the…” Nathan said. He quickly ran up and dug away at some of the snow where they had lay, but there was nothing to be found.

“Uh, Curie?” Ben asked, hoping she had an explanation.

“I am afraid I am just as confused as you are.” Curie said, her excitement barely diminished.

The squad stood there in silence, all turning their attention to the final creature as it simply disappeared and vanished into a fine black mist, before even that dissolved into nothingness.

“Uh, what was that?” Meadows asked, breaking the silence.

“What that was, Sergeant, was not our goddamn priority.” Fairfire stated. “We've got footage of it for later, let's get back to the mission at hand.”

“What, we're just gonna look past the bit where we got attacked by demon bears?” Yu asked snarkily.

“I’ll have you know that’s a very rare and endangered arctic satan bear, educate yourself.” Nathan jokingly commented, although Ben could still sense the faint shakiness in his voice.

“Like I said, not our goddamn priority.” Fairfire reaffirmed, directing a harsh glare at Yu and Nathan to punctate her point. “I never finished calling in our discoveries, give me a moment.”

Surprisingly, Fairfire didn't take very long with her conversation, and while Ben couldn't hear their discussion, her body language suggested that she wasn't happy with what she heard.

“Looks like you get your wish Ben, we're going to do a bit of recon.” Fairfire said, somewhat grumpily.

“I didn't mean to subvert your command, Sir.” Ben said, clarifying his intentions.

“That's not my problem Sergeant, I just wanted to do recon anywhere but a fucking minefield.” Fairfire grumbled. “At least we have someone with shields to take point, move it out!”

Just as the squad was about to move out, Meadows raised a fist to stop them.

“Hold up Sir, we have more contacts approaching, your nine o’ clock.” He said.

“What is it? More Bears?” Fairfire asked, raising her shotgun once more.

“Negative, looks like... humans.” Meadows akwardly answered..

Ben turned his attention and saw a group of what appeared to be soldiers that was a similar size to their own squad advancing towards them. They were armed, and were clearly purposefully equipped to deal with the terrain, with white armor and heavily padded clothes. Ben noted their armor was quite primitive, at least in design. 

It was obviously quite heavy, and every single one of them had a large polarized visor on their helmets. Ben noted a 12 pointed snowflake insignia on both shoulders of their armor as well as on their chests. They moved with a hint of wariness, like because of some sort of aversion towards the squad of Marines or perhaps those bear-like creatures.

“Sir, how should we play this?” Yu asked, maintaining her rifle in a ready position.

For a brief moment, Fairfire was silent. She eyed the squad of foreign soldiers, before letting out a sigh. “Lower your weapons, it looks like we’re gonna have to talk our way out of this.”

She lowered her shotgun and gave a friendly wave towards the presumed soldiers, but Ben could still sense a feeling of tension from the Helljumpers around him.

_Well, I guess this is one way to make first contact. I hope Fairfire can talk us out of this..._ Ben thought as he doubled checked the safety on his own weapon. He was well aware that it may very well appear that they arrived to sabotage the minefield in the forest, which was likely fuel into hostility.

The ODSTs fanned out slightly, but all of them kept their weapons lowered. The foreign soldiers continued to approach with a few more reassuring gestures from Fairfire. At last, they entered speaking distance. Before Fairfire could issue a greeting, one of the soldiers who was apparently the leader spoke first.

“This is a restricted area. Who are you and how the hell did you get out here?” The soldier asked, obviously bewildered by their presence.

The whole squad was taken aback, the man spoke English fluently, although it was influenced with a slight German accent.

_Why the hell would you restrict access to a village in the middle of nowhere?_ Ben thought, more curious than anything else.

“I am Staff Sergeant Fairfire, United Nations Space Command Marine Corps.” Fairfire said. “This is the rest of my fireteam, we arrived via our dropship, we’re looking for the people who live in the village around a kilometer south of here.”

The lead soldier simply stared at her, his visor hiding his expression. Seeing that he apparently wasn’t going to respond Fairfire continued.

“We-” Fairfire began, but was immediately cut off.

“Wait, hold on, say that first bit again, slowly.” The man said, seemingly still digesting it.

Fairfire did as he asked, repeating her first sentence deliberately slower.

“Well, that's certainly creative.” The man said. “What are you, aliens or something?”

“In the sense that we aren't native to this planet? Yes.” Fairfire said nonchalantly. "Look-"

“I don't buy that.” he said, obviously irritated. “Regardless, I guess who you are isn’t too important. My primary concern is what the hell you’re doing out here.”

Fairfire sighed once more, Ben could practically feel her patience drain away. “Alright. Initially we were sent down here in order to make contact with the people of this… village, of yours.”

“Now hold a moment…” He said. Although Ben couldn’t see his face, he could imagine the look of sheer confusion on his face. “That doesn’t explain why the hell you decided to tear a path through our Grimm defense web. Sabotaging Grimm defenses is a felony, let alone doing it on private property of the Schnee Dust Company.”

_Grimm?_ Ben thought, noting the obviously out-of-place word. _Maybe that’s just what they call the wildlife around here..._

“Well, we’re not exactly too familiar with the customs around here.” Fairfire replied. “Whether you believe we came from orbit or somewhere else on this planet isn’t important. I didn’t show up here to march my squad through a live minefield!”

“Well… why do it then?” He asked, seemingly more confused than angry.

Ben suddenly understood what Fairfire was trying to do, capture the focus of the foreign soldier and maybe even steer them away from fighting. She pressed onwards with her words. “Because minefield or not, I have orders to reconnoiter this… area, and collect whatever useful information I can.”

The man looked back to his squad, and then back to Fairfire. “I’m gonna have to call this in, please give me a moment here.”

“By all means, go right ahead.” She said.

The man reached for something on the side of his helmet and apparently privately spoke with a commanding officer. The two squads of visored soldiers inspected one another as the tension between them momentarily subsided.

“Curie, can you intercept that signal?” Ben privately asked her.

“I am afraid not, whatever software language it’s using, I have no experience with.” Curie answered. “Even though the encryption looks simplistic, I would need a lot of time to figure it out.”

“Don’t bother, it looks like he’s finishing up anyway.” Ben said, noticing how the soldier slowly took his hand off of his headset and returned it to the grip of his rifle.

“Ok, I’ve been ordered to take you in, will you come quietly or not?” The soldier asked.

_Oh hell._ Ben thought. Curie quietly let out the phrase in French she commonly used when something bad was about to happen.

Fairfire, even though it seemed inevitable that fighting would break out, made one last effort to put a stop to it. “Buddy, take it from an honest-to-god Marine, this is not how you want first contact with your planet to go…”

Both sides raised their rifles, with Ben snapping his to aim directly at the leader’s head with frightening speed. Some of the foreign soldiers seemed to recognize the threat he posed, and pointed their weapons at him in turn. Ben briefly pondered whether or not he should speak up, and decided that he could hardly make things worse than they already were.

“Listen to what she says.” Ben said, letting his digitally altered voice ring out throughout the squad of native human soldiers.

The man didn’t listen, and made a grab for Fairfire's shotgun. She responded by punching him in the throat, causing him to recoil and raise his rifle. Before he could fire, Fairfire brought her shotgun to bear first and blasted him backwards. As the pellets of buckshot hit him, Ben was shocked to see some sort of energy wall form where they impacted, protecting the now hostile soldier from harm. Curie audibly gasped in shock at the display.

_Energy shields?!_ Ben thought.

He pushed his concerns aside to reflect on his questions later, this was a battle, it was time to do what he was trained to do. He shifted his battle rifle to one of the soldiers aiming at him and fired a three round burst at his head. Again, some kind of energy shield protected the man, but he visibly recoiled from the impact anyway. Several of the enemy soldiers focused their first shots on him as they began to back up, but Ben’s own energy shields protected him.

Both the ODSTs and the new hostiles scrambled to put some distance between themselves and their opponents, firing as they began to move towards cover. Several more low caliber bullets bounced off Bens armor's energy shield, barely even reducing its strength. The Helljumpers raised an impressive degree of suppressive fire, but it wasn’t enough to pin all of the enemy soldiers down.

“Ben, they need cover!” Curie said. Immediately he realized what she meant, the enemy had personal energy shields, the ODSTs did not. In extreme close quarters combat energy shields presented a large enough advantage that even the top-notch Helljumpers would not survive for very long.

“Reroute excess power to the equipment module.” Ben said calmly, the obvious solution already formed within his mind.

“Done!” Curie urgently replied.

“Squad, cluster up around me!” Ben yelled, making deliberate usage of his microphone to amplify his voice over the gunfire.

There was no time for snarky remarks or questions as to what he was planning. The Helljumpers complied, starting to rapidly maneuver towards him. Ben watched as Private Wilson, the first ODST that made it beside him was shot, a spray of blood flying away from his shoulders and covering the snow as he fell to the ground, but Ben had no time to check on his condition. As all of the ODSTs clustered around him in close proximity, he spotted a grenade fly through the air towards them.

“Ben!” Curie called out in panic.

Time slowed down, the grenade's trajectory through the air decreased its speed, and the gunfight around him seemed to be moving at a snail's pace. As Spartan Time kicked in, it provided him enough time to activate his Mjolnir’s attached equipment module.

A few days before they had left Onyx to board the Dominion, Ben and Curie had been given a choice of one of several new equipment modules to be installed in Ben's suit, and both of them had agreed on the same option, the Drop Shield. Offering a protective bubble of energy that could be configured to be impassable or traversable by soldiers, as well as a tissue regenerative effect that was still not understood by UNSC scientists. But in this particular instance, it was it’s protective capabilities against gunfire that proved the most useful.

The whole squad was suddenly surrounded in a bubble of energy, hexagonal shapes formed a sphere around the ODSTs. The enemy forces stopped firing as they looked at the bubble in shock, and then at the grenade they had thrown that had bounced off of the shield and landed at their feet. Only a second later, it detonated, most of the enemy soldiers were caught in the blast radius, pieces of shrapnel bounced off their energy shields, The leader that Fairfire had gotten with a shotgun blast had his shield overwhelmed and a piece of metal launched messily through his skull, killing him instantly.

“Neat party trick Ben.” Fairfire said, before turning to her squad. “Status?!”

“I'm hit but not bad!” Meadows called out, clutching his shoulder, Ben moved to assist him with covering it with Biofoam.

“Ben, priority! Give me that damn biofoam!” Yu called out. Ben looked over and saw her and Fairfire kneeling beside Private Wilson, a quick look confirmed had been shot in the neck.

_That takes priority, sorry Meadows._ Ben thought, tossing the biofoam over, which Yu caught and was about to administer when Fairfire stopped her, Ben also noticing the same thing she must have.

“Yu, he's gone.” Fairfire said.

“You don't know that!” Yu protested.

_Are you really going to argue while people need your help? Take her word for it!_ Ben thought sheer disbelief at the display of improper discipline. A quick glance at his HUD confirmed Fairfire’s words, Wilson was flatlined, the bullet must’ve penetrated his spinal cord and killed his nervous system. _At least it was quick..._

“Look at your HUD!” Fairfire said. “He's got no pulse and his body temperature is already cooling, he's dead.”

Yu paused as she struggled to think of an argument. “There's gotta be-”

Something in Ben's brain snapped, and he felt a rush of anger. He began to sweat as he felt his body temperature rise rapidly. He stepped over to the two Helljumpers and swiped the biofoam canister out of Yu's hand.

“Get your shit together! Your squadmate needs help, and since you won't do it, I will!” Ben snapped, his voice a low growl. Yu froze with an emotion Ben didn’t care to examine as he took the can.

Ben quickly treated the rest of the squad's wounds one by one, the biofoam would stabilize them, but it was a temporary solution. Even in his state of fury, Ben was more than capable of performing first aid.

He kept a close eye on the enemy soldiers outside of the bubble while he did so. It seemed that they had taken the brief interlude in the fighting to do the same thing, as they recovered their wounded and acquired better fighting positions.

“Ben-” Meadows began, speaking in a gentle tone as Ben sealed his shoulder shut.

“Unless it's relevant to your treatment, save it!” Ben retorted. Meadows made no further comment. As Ben finished treating Meadow's wounds, he handed the biofoam canister to the man, vaguely recalling something about him having some degree of medical experience. 

“You have forty percent of the can left, use it well.” Ben said as he handed over the canister.

“Are you okay Monsieur Ben?” Curie asked, obviously worried, she spoke only to him through his helmet as he returned his focus to the battle around them.

“I'm fine.” Ben answered. He was frustrated, that did not inhibit his ability to fight. “How long does the shield have?”

“Fifty-two seconds until the shield fails.” Curie said, concern in her voice still evident, this time she spoke using the speaker, bringing the squad up to speed.

Now somewhat calmer, Ben turned to Fairfire, who was pulling a piece of a shattered bullet out of her visor. Her face was visible as the polarization function had broken. Outside of the bubble, a single soldier tested the strength of the shield with a single shot, which richoted away, discouraging future attempts.

“What's the plan Sir?” Ben asked.

“I've called Fireball, she's on her way. She'll be here in three minutes.” Fairfire said.

Ben nodded. “Anything to stay alive until then?”

“Fighting retreat, we aren't equipped to fight shielded enemies.” Fairfire said simply.

“They'll blow you apart as you make the dash to the Pelican.” Ben pointed out. "That armor doesn't make you bulletproof."

“Ben, twenty-five seconds.” Curie said, urgency in her voice.

“I'll cover your retreat, give me your frag.” Ben said. holding out his hand.

Fairfire shook her head with a slight grin visible on her face. “You're a real madman, you know that Spartan?” But it was a rhetorical question, she complied with his request and handed over her grenade, Ben stored it next to his own. “What's your plan?”

“I'm going to take them all on at once.” Ben said simply. "Draw their fire and give you some cover in the process. I can take them."

Fairfire nodded. “I don’t doubt it, good luck Sierra.”

While the ODSTs prepared to dash to more stable cover and picked up their fallen comrade and his weapon, Ben loaded a fresh magazine into his battle rifle and looked through the shield at the enemy's position.

They had spread out amongst the trees and taken up a wide, disorganized formation. They had also moved back away from the shield, not too far, with their positions ranging from twenty to thirty meters away.

“Seven seconds.” Curie warned.

“Analyze their formation, find me the ideal location for a grenade.” Ben said.

A split second later an outline of where to throw a grenade appeared on his HUD. “Please, be careful monsieur.”

“We play it safe, no heroics, just like Kurt taught us.” Ben replied calmly.

“Three seconds.” Curie relayed.

Right on cue, the shield fell. Ben bolted forward, priming his first grenade before throwing it, and firing as he ran directly towards the enemy. Trees made for bad cover, especially when faced against UNSC grade ballistics and semi-armor-piercing projectiles, meaning that even the sheltered enemies could not escape his fire.

The key to fighting shield based opponents was hitting them with enough energy to overwhelm them, be it heat, electrical, or good old fashioned kinetic, enough energy would overwhelm any shield. The strategy was proven when his first target's shield broke and Ben was free to put a three round burst through their chest, sending them to the ground from which they did not get back up.

The first grenade detonated, sending shrapnel, snow, and wooden splinters flying in every direction. The explosion caught almost every enemy soldier on the left flank in the blast. Only one or two died in the blast, but all of the soldiers were in bad shape and their coordination was gone, giving Ben a little less fire to worry about. They seemed to be caught off guard by his charge.

“Rerouting supplementary power towards maintaining shields.” Curie said urgently, speaking only to Ben.

Ben had succeeded in acquiring the attention of most of the enemy soldiers, but it was beginning to cause problems. Even though the enemy’s shots did surprisingly little damage to his shields, he was just as vulnerable towards having them overloaded as the enemy were. Already, they had been reduced to a third of their initial durability.

His drop shield would also need more time to recharge, meaning he would need to find physical cover or start taking hits. The only cover available was a less than optimally thick tree, but without any real options, Ben stopped his advance and took cover, getting as near to the ground as he could without compromising his ability to move quickly, finding himself in a low kneeling position.

Several of the soldiers on his right flank shifted their focus to the retreating ODSTs once Ben entered cover. He noticed this, and primed the grenade he had been given by Fairfire to give them cover. He noticed that it wasn't actually a standard fragmentation grenade, it was a similar looking high explosive grenade, designed to destroy structures, not clusters of infantry. Regardless, the enemy were clustered just close enough that it would be effective, and without any further options, he threw it.

The grenade detonated on impact, creating a deafening roar that boomed throughout the forest, with the subsequent wave of fire engulfing every one of his targets. One of the enemy soldiers who had been frantically screaming something into his handheld radio was right at the epicenter of the explosion, and was instantly killed, along with two of his companions, the rest of the enemies in the squad were either badly injured or left with barely-intact shields.

By now, the enemy soldiers were starting to realize that they were outmatched, and started a slow retreat. Ben did not pursue, but continued firing bursts into any enemy who turned to fight, managing to score another kill in the process.

“Their shields seem to be very inconsistent in strength, and they should have recharged by now if they have an onboard power supply, maybe they use batteries?” Curie said as she observed the enemies behavior.

“We'll have plenty of opportunity to study them later!” Ben replied urgently, looking at his rapidly dwindling ammo count. As he reloaded his second to last magazine, Fairfire's voice became audible over the radio, as well as the roar of a Pelican's engines.

“Ben, get your head down. Enemy reinforcements incoming!” Fairfire shouted.

“Running low on ammo, what's the plan?” Ben asked. “I only need a few seconds to recharge shields-”

“Fireball can handle them! Keep your head down, this is gonna be danger-close.” Fairfire said.

“Understood.” Ben responded simply, hunkering down in his position and covering his head.

“Oh dear me...” Curie commented.

**Pelican Zulu One-Nine-Eight**   
**Cockpit**

Patricia “Fireball” Hartmann was normally not happy with having ground troops in the cockpit. But so far Staff Sergeant Fairfire had been nothing but helpful, offering valuable intelligence about her new opponents and most delightfully, informing her they didn't seem to have anti-aircraft munitions.

“You’re cleared to fire.” Fairfire relayed.

_It’s always a good day when the bastards get cheap with air defenses._ She thought with immense satisfaction as she brought the aircraft to a more stable hover. _Time for a stern lesson in modern warfare._

“You see them?” Fireball asked her Co-Pilot, who already had control of the chin mounted autocannon.

“Targets acquired, looks like maybe eight-plus foot mobiles, approaching fast. They've seen us.” he reported. “Small arms incoming, but it's not a threat.”

Fireball listened as tiny sounds of metallic impacts could be heard through the dropship’s hull. She nearly laughed at the pathetic effort to bring down her dropship.

“Weapons free.” She stated as she unlocked the safety on the main cannon, immediately she heard the large 70mm chaingun begin firing it's colossal depleted uranium slugs at the hostile infantry. 

Wanting to see the carnage, she switched one of her non-critical displays to a camera feed from the gun's optics system, and watched as the enemy infantry were torn to ribbons.

_That's what you get you innie bastards._ She thought with satisfaction as the enemy infantry was wiped out, their shields all but useless against such devastatingly large projectiles.

“All targets are history Fireball.” her Co-Pilot announced. “I think I see some wounded down there…”

“Leave em’, we ain’t covies.” Fireball said. “Okay, we’re coming in for a landing now.”

“Nice shooting.” Ben commented over the radio. “Some of them got away, should we pursue?”

"Negative, we're grabbing you and getting the hell out of here.” Fairfire stated.

Picking up Ben was uneventful, and with all of the UNSC personnel aboard, either alive or dead, Fireball began the process of returning to the Dominion.


	12. Chapter 12

**UNSC Dominion, Commander Richard’s quarters**   
**October 2nd, 1832 Local time, 2552**

_I think that realistically, that couldn’t have gone much worse._ Richard thought.

Ever since Fireteam Onyx had made its way back aboard, the whole ship had been stirred up, and rightfully so. The initial reaction had been confusion, followed very quickly by rage. The anger only intensified as time went on, especially after the team was finished being debriefed and Richard decided to make the reports of the incident accessible to the rest of the crew.

_They were going to find out anyway._ Richard thought to himself as he poured himself a drink. It was some sort of no-doubt prestigious whiskey, that the previous Captain had left behind as a welcoming gift. He didn’t drink often, but now felt like a decent time. Still, he kept it small, he’d need to be thinking clearly in the coming days.

But right now, he was alone, and not doing anything important. He couldn’t do much planning with Bradford asleep, and Curie and the Bridge Officers would need more time to gather information. He found himself rewatching the helmet camera footage from the event, focusing on every different perspective from the battle that they had access to.

The official conclusion the rest of the officers had reached on why the skirmish had taken place was a lack of proper communication. Privately, Richard blamed whoever had been in charge of the patrol of soldiers, if they hadn’t been ordered to detain Onyx Team, there would have never been a fight. But he wasn't impressed with Fairfire either, there was a chance that she could have potentially avoided a conflict, even after the enemy squad leader had received his orders, but she had opted to respond with authority, rather than diplomacy.

She’s a Hot-headed Helljumper, not a diplomat, what were you expecting? Richard critically thought, his frustration more directed at himself than her.

Her diplomatic performance had caused a harsh debate with Lieutenant Clark, the Commanding Officer of Zulu Company, the marine complement aboard the Dominion. Fairfire defended herself and her team, arguing he wouldn’t have done anything different, if placed into the same situation. That fierce debate probably would have gotten violent if Richard hadn’t personally intervened. He scheduled a personal talk with Fairfire for later, which seemed to satisfy the Lieutenant.

_The last thing I need right now is a fistfight between a senior NCO and an Officer._ He thought as he drank his second and final shot. _That’s probably a good place to stop._

His thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door to his quarters. The door was thick, but a hard knock could get some sound through.

_Damnit, the buzzer must be out again._ He thought, pressing the door control that was mounted on his desk. The door opened, revealing Ben, still in his armor, who walked in. _On time, as always. I Still have no idea why he needed to see me._ Richard thought. 

Ben walked in but did not take a seat. Instead, he silently stared down at Richard, probably weighing the odds of whether or not the chairs in his quarters could handle the burden of his armor.

“The chairs are good, you should be fine.” Richard said, before he realized Ben wasn’t looking at the chairs, but at the bottle on his desk.

“Isn’t it a little early for drinks, Sir?” Ben asked, an unmistakable hint of concern in his voice.

_Ah, not exactly a great role model am I?_ Richard thought, feeling more than a little disappointed in himself.

“I figured now’s as good a time as any, and I kept it well under the limit. Probably never going to touch the thing again.” Richard said, hoping to dash his suspicions.

Ben was hard to read, especially with his helmet on. But Richard could tell he was still suspicious.

“Ben, I’m perfectly capable of doing my duty. I’m not a drunkard, you know that.” Richard insisted.

“Of course, sorry Sir, I didn’t mean to imply otherwise.” Ben said much to Richard’s relief, before taking a seat.

“Now, what can I do for you son?” Richard asked. He wasn't arrogant enough to assume that Ben thought of him as a father figure, but he still did his best to be a good leader as he effectively raised the boy.

_He never does talk about his family, then again, none of the Spartans did._ Richard thought. Of course, he knew what had happened to Ben’s family, it was listed bluntly on his file. Most Spartan IIIs were orphans that were created by the war, Ben was no exception.

“Do you remember what you said back on the first day we met, you told me saying sorry was a waste of time.” Ben said as he removed his helmet, a hiss of air emerged as he removed it, before placing it on his lap.

“I do.” Richard said, not fully understanding where he was leading to.

“Well, I wanted to briefly disregard your advice and apologize. The mission was a failure, and I feel that’s partially because of my inexperience.” Ben said solemnly. “And I wasn’t able to save one of my squadmates, Private Wilson.”

Richard nodded, he was familiar with the fallen ODST. Private Wilson had his fair share of personal problems, but he hadn’t deserved the death he’d been given, not by a longshot. Still, Ben’s guilt was entirely unjustified, he had done everything he could have, and faced down an entire squad of shielded opponents without hesitation. 

Franklin Mendez was probably to blame for that, he was an excellent instructor, but his perfectionist attitude rubbed off on every Spartan, not just Ben. Commander Ambrose had been the same way, which made sense, given the fact he was a former student of Mendez. Goddamnit you old coot, what’s wrong with a little positive encouragement here and there?

“Ben, if you hadn’t been there, and did what you did, we’d be having a funeral for more than one soldier today.” Richard said, being careful not to embellish the truth. Curie’s thinking and Ben’s rapid action stopped the ODSTs from getting ripped apart at close range by shielded opponents, something they had been ill-equipped to deal with. Richard would not make the same mistake twice, the Marines would be bringing heavier weapons from now on, and certainly larger numbers.

“Thank you Sir... I think I just needed someone to say it.” Ben said with a nod. “I know Curie feels responsible as well, even though she knows that couldn’t have done anything more.”

“People die, that’s a sad reality of war.” Richard said.

“War?” Ben asked, his helmet cocked in surprise. "Do you think we’re going to end up at war with these people?"

Richard waved his hand. “Sorry, bad choice of words. Hopefully we can avoid an all-out war, I was more using it to refer to any sort of engagement.”

Ben slowly nodded as he took in Richard’s words. “I hope you can find a way to talk them down.”

“Me too.” Richard said. “I’ve got a few ideas, but I want to discuss them with Lieutenant Bradford first, and finish the service preparations.”

“I understand.” Ben said. “Thank you, Richard… Sir.”

Richard waved his formal gesture away. “A private chat between soldiers is no place for formalities, it’s a place to be honest, speak your mind.”

Ben seemed somewhat doubtful, but he gave a nod of acknowledgement anyway.

“And don’t let Wilson’s death get you down, it wasn’t your fault.” Richard added.

“Who’s fault was it, do you think?” Ben asked, after a moment of thinking.

“The miserable son of a bitch who shot him.” Richard coldly answered. “By the way, between you and me, good kill, that rotten bastard deserved it.”

Ben remained silent, and was probably thinking about how to respond to what Richard had said. “Yeah, thanks.”

These are the first people he’s killed. Richard remembered. Although Ben’s training probably helped considerably, it was still something he would need to personally digest.

But thinking about the enemy soldiers had brought a new train of thought into Richard’s mind. “By the way, while you’re here, can I get your input on something?”

“Absolutely.” Ben answered. "What is it?"

Richard adjusted the video feed of the battle that he had been watching, and moved it so that both he and Ben could see it easily. The perspective was from Fairfire’s helmet camera, when she had fired a round from her shotgun at the enemy squad leader at the start of the fighting. 

He paused the video when the buckshot was absorbed by the man’s energy shield. The impacts prompted several web-like formations branching off from the impacts, the squad leader’s was red, but curiously, the different enemy soldiers seemed to have different colored shields.

_It could just be a novelty, I suppose. Not like the ONI engineers who put ours together give a crap about what color they are._ Richard thought.

“This.” Richard said, pointing at the impact markers. “These guys are obviously using some sort of energy shield, but something’s… wrong.”

“Curie and I noticed it too.” Ben said, confirming that Richard wasn’t the only person who had noticed the oddity. “No energy shield, Covenant or Human, makes a formation like that when they get hit.”

Ben was actually the ideal person that Richard could have asked about this, which made his answer all the more troubling. Ben's knowledge of shields far surpassed everyone else’s on the ship, given he was trained to maintain the complex systems of his armor. “So, what do you think is going on? Maybe this isn’t an energy shield, at least, not like we know them?”

“I can’t say for sure. Curie said that she ran some projections, and she said there’s a very good chance that their shield technology is completely different to ours. She also said something about how their armor was devoid of energy signatures, so whatever it is, it requires either no power, or so little it’s meaningless.” Ben said with a perplexed expression. "I would theorize, but we don't have enough information to come up with anything meaningful."

“I wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it.” Richard said, before the realization clicked inside his mind, the true implications behind what he was seeing. “Imagine if we figured out how these shields work, and then brought them home…”

“We’d turn the war around, especially if we could mount it to our ships.” Ben simply said, a hint of thought behind his words. “It’s weird, isn’t it? The people on this planet don’t even have spaceflight, but they have shielding systems that surpass even Covenant Infantry... something doesn’t add up here.”

Ben’s words provoked an idea in Richard’s mind. “Actually, that’s a good idea, we could ask the Elite about them. See if he knows about anything like this.”

“Yes Sir.” Ben said. “Should I ask him about anything else?”

“Whatever you see fit, there’s certainly no shortage of things to ask him about.” Richard said, his thoughts reminding him of the strange black creatures that had disintegrated when they had been killed.

“Understood, permission to-” Ben began to ask.

“Go right ahead.” Richard interrupted. Ben departed with his new task, and Richard went back to his thoughts.

_Maybe I should give him a commendation, he certainly distinguished himself for his first engagement. _Richard thought once Ben had gone. _But I should file Meadow's purple heart adjustment first._

**UNSC Dominion, Brig**   
**October 2nd, 1845 Local time, 2552**

The worst thing about being in the custody of the humans wasn’t anything like he expected. It wasn’t torture, or being kept in horrible conditions, or even talking to the damn creatures, it was the boredom. He’d gotten so used to the silence during his time aboard the human vessel that he was amazed he was still sane.

So when the Demon walked in with their equivalent of a datapad, he was only slightly irritated, but mostly he was just relieved he wasn’t alone anymore. Even if it was a demon he was sharing the room with, he would no longer be faced with the silence that isolation offered.

_At least it’s not the fat one._ Set thought grumpily.

“Got a minute?” It asked.

“Oh, I don’t know. I’ve got this wall to stare at, and if I stop it might get up and run away.” Set cheekily responded.

“Is that so?” It asked, not showing any signs of irritation. “Regardless, we recently encountered some things that were unfamiliar with. We were thinking that maybe you know a bit more about them.”

_The Demon is smarter than the other one, Tom-ass. He is very foolish, easy to anger, like an unusually proud unggoy, he is quite funny. The Demon has some patience._ Set thought. 

The Demon handed him the datapad. It had a handful of images on it, and the first was a continental map of a planet. It was green and blue, like a lot of other human worlds. “Do you recognize this planet?”

Set was honestly confused by the question. He wasn’t a navigator or a geologist, he was an infiltrator and an assassin. It looked like any human world that hadn’t yet been reduced to a ball of glass to him. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be seeing.

“No, I don’t. It’s a human world, I presume?” Set guessed, earning only a blank stare from the Demon. “Well, what did you expect me to say?”

“Just answer the question to the best of your ability.” The Demon said.

“So it is a human planet?” Set pressed.

“That’s not for you to worry about.” The demon sternly replied.

_So either “yes” or there are some unusual circumstances about it, that is interesting._ Set thought. _If we are truly lost in space, they must be also confused to find something like this._

He found it quite funny how he had learned that the humans had gotten lost. One of the menial crewmen had come down to his cell and screamed feverishly at him, believing the event to be sabotage on his part. It only took around a minute for some other humans to come and stop him, but Set was too busy laughing to care. Even if he didn't do it, he found angry humans to be funny.

_It almost makes me wish I could get out of here, do some sabotage of my own._ Set thought devilishly.

The Demon swiped the tablet’s screen, displaying an array of four smaller images, it took a moment for Set to realize what he was looking at. Large, black creatures that were clearly wildlife of some sort. Judging by the fact that the images were taken from a helmet camera, and that the user’s weapons were aimed at the creatures, Set deduced the humans were fighting them. The strange animals made him feel uneasy for a reason he couldn’t explain, giving him a suspicion that they were unnatural.

“Do you recognize these creatures?” It asked.

“No… but-” Set began, his curiosity overwhelming his desire to keep quiet. “These images, are they in their original form?”

“They’re unedited, except for the information we blotted out in the corners.” The Demon answered.

Set debated whether or not he should reveal what he was thinking. The texts left behind by the gods mentioned a deadly parasite which had caused great strife, and something about the creatures practically screamed “diseased” at his inner instincts. Although he was admittedly concerned, he decided that the parasite and these creatures were likely unrelated, if equally disturbing.

“No, I don’t recognize them. They seem… unnatural.” Set said, not letting his discomfort show.

_The God’s creations should not be toyed with, they granted us these bodies and tools for a reason._ Set thought, wondering if some kind horrible experiment could have led to their creation.

“Yeah, we thought that too.” The Demon commented.

_They don’t know either, that much was obvious. But its lack of knowledge suggests that it truly has no idea what it’s looking at._ Set thought.

The demon swiped the tablet again, this time displaying another image taken by a camera, likely mounted on a helmet. It showed a human weapon discharging and impacting another human, but the other human was protected by a set of unusual energy shields.

_That is worrisome, the only humans we’ve seen with shields are Demons. _Set thought. _I wonder why they are shooting each other?_

“Those energy shields, what do you make of them?” The demon asked.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Set asked, not bothering to hide his frustrations. “If you are asking what I think about the energy shielding on that human, it looks quite strange.”

“You don’t recognize the kind of shielding?” The Demon asked, seemingly surprised.

“No… do you?” Set asked, noting that if they were asking him, that they likely didn’t know themselves.

“That’s not your concern.” The Demon said, his reaction telling Set all he needed to know. “What about their armor?”

“It appears primitive and too heavy. It appears to be made to intimidate, not to wage righteous justice. As if it was made by an over-aspiring Brute Chieftain.” Set said dismissively.

“Have you ever encountered a human wearing armor that looked like this?” The Demon asked.

“Living ones? No.” Set replied simply.

“I meant the design.” The Demon clarified, obviously irritated.

_Hmmm, maybe the Demon also has a limit to its temper? If it does, it is certainly much steeper than any of the other humans I have met. _Set thought._ Then again, humans in my company tend to die rather quickly._

“Well in that case, no. I have never seen human armor like this before.” Set said. “Again, its design seems… remarkably outdated.”

“What about the symbol on the chest?” The Demon asked.

“It’s a flake of snow.” Set said. The Demon looked at him with an indiscernible expression. “Well, you can’t tell me I’m wrong now can you?”

“Do you have any guesses?” The Demon asked.

Set thought for a moment, genuinely putting the effort in, as he was curious as well. “It does not seem to be a religious symbol, it’s far too generic and holds insufficient prestige for that. Maybe it is their clan symbol, their gang, flock, whatever a group of humans is called.”

“I see.” The Demon said. “One last question, this one’s from me.”

“Speak your mind Demon.” Set said with a grin.

“Why are you saying anything?” The Demon asked. “Why cooperate with us?”

“I have not cooperated with you.” Set answered. “I merely seek to expand my own knowledge of the current events that are transpiring. I feed you some of my information in order to do that”

“From what Lieutenant Thomas had told me, you act quite differently with him.” The Demon said.

Set laughed. “Thomas is a funny human. He is easy to anger, and watching him suppress his own rage is entertaining, so I toy with him.”

“But not me?” The Demon asked.

“You may be a human, you may be a Demon, but you are something that Thomas is not, a warrior.” Set said. “I may not respect your species, but I have been taught to respect a worthy opponent, even if only for their capabilities.”

“Well, that’s certainly eye-opening.” The Demon said. “Thank you for your time.”

“Until we meet again, Demon.” Set said dismissively.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**   
**October 2nd, 2122 Local Time, 2552**

The Bridge was quieter than normal, likely because most of the crew had just woken up to replace their first-shift counterparts. It was something of a relief, it gave Richard more room to think, and the steady beeping of the computers and the clacking of the keyboards was quite relaxing. 

Out of the front viewport, Remnant steadily spun around it’s polar axis. The snowy northern continent where his soldiers had landed was in the middle of a harsh snowstorm, concealing much of the actual surface beneath thick grey clouds. His quiet observations were interrupted when Lieutenant Commander Bradford walked onto the bridge.

“Welcome back Lieutenant, how was the service?” Richard asked. They weren’t able to give their fallen ODST a proper burial, but standard practice was to ceremonially freeze his body in cryo, preventing decomposition so that his family could have a proper burial.

_I hope we can find a way to get home, and not just to deliver our dead Marine back to his family._ Richard thought. He looked around at the rest of the officers on the Bridge, wondering if anyone else was going to die before they made it back.

“Quiet, everyone was restless,” Bradford replied. “The ODSTs looked anxious, they must be eager for revenge.”

“They are.” Richard pointed out. “Most of the ship is angry, which is something that we’ll want to keep in mind.”

“That we will...” Bradford said as he took a position around the holotable with Richard. “So, have you decided upon our next course of action?”

“Well, let me bring you up to speed. There have been some… discoveries.” Richard said, turning on the holotable, revealing a holographic representation of the planet, but with several new markers placed around it. “I ordered our recon probes and communications satellites into various orbits around the planet. The idea is that we can hopefully have eyes and ears in as many places as we can, even if we can’t quite manage global coverage at the moment.”

“Ah, damn, I should’ve ordered that hours ago.” Bradford muttered. He crossed his arms and examined the hologram more closely. “So, what did we discover?” 

“Well, that’s just it, we haven’t been finding as much as we expected, especially when it comes to human civilization.” Richard answered. “The vast majority of the arable land on this planet remains totally uninhabited. From what we can tell, most of the planet’s population is crammed into five large cities, as well as the surrounding suburbs and farmlands.”

Bradford eyed over the globe, confirming what Richard had said. “Why leave all that land unclaimed?”

“We can’t say, Curie ran every prediction she could and just couldn’t figure it out. Her best guess was some form of environmental hazard that we can’t detect with our current equipment.” Richard said. “On the topic of environmental hazards…”

Richard shifted the hologram to focus on the planet’s shattered moon, its physics defying nature all the more prevalent with what Richard had since learned. “One of our probes did some close recon on the moon, and confirmed Curie’s theory of a “gravitational deadzone” on and around it.”

“Gravitational deadzone?” Bradford asked, his eyebrows now scrunched up. “You mean it has no gravity, at all?”

Richard slowly nodded. “Needless to say, that’s a can of worms I don’t think we’re quite ready to open. Curie warned me that it’s going to be extremely dangerous to explore, so we’d need some specialized equipment, but apparently it’s loaded with valuable materials, should we ever need them.”

“Well if we need to barter for the parts to a slipspace drive, we know where to look.” Bradford said. “Although, I doubt we could build one, even if we had the parts…”

“It’s going to be a challenge, no matter how we do it.” Richard admitted. “It could be decades before we even get a drive built, let alone find a way home.”

There was a momentary silence as the two of them mutually reflected on their current situation, both of them knew what that news would do to the morale of the crew.

“Enough! Worrying won’t get us anywhere.” Richard grumbled. He was more irritated with how bothered he was, more so than anything else. “We need to focus on establishing a proper diplomatic contact with these people.”

“That is if they don’t just shoot us on sight.” Bradford bitterly pointed out.

“Yeah well, at least in that regard, I might have some good news.” Richard said, bringing the hologram of the planet back into display. “Curie analyzed the settlements with some extra detail, and she determined a lot about the inhabitants. One of the major things that she observed is different continents seem to have different regional building styles, which she attributed to cultural differences.”

“That seems like a guess.” Bradford said, a hint of suspicion in his voice.

“That is because it is, monsieur Bradford.” Curie said, her avatar forming next to the hologram of the planet. “I did have limited data to work with, but I did calculate a near-guaranteed chance of serious cultural differences existing between the different major settlements, possibly indicating that some of this planet’s inhabitants might be a little bit less aggressive. Admittedly, I based that on data I have gathered from ancient human history, which might have major differences on this planet.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, Curie.” Richard said. He was unsurprised by the unwavering interest in her voice, a scientific mess like this had to be exciting for her.

_Even if it’s just annoying for the rest of us._ Richard thought, looking out at the moon with newfound irritation.

“Well, I suppose we’ll just have to take your word for it.” Bradford said, his dissatisfaction very apparent. “Keep in mind, one gunfight in the backwoods of some snowy village is hardly going to make up an international incident in any society, especially if those soldiers didn’t believe we were extraterrestrial.”

_That’s understandable, it’s not like humans are naturally oriented towards shooting one-another for no good reason._ Richard thought. Relying on an assumption like that, especially an optimistic one, was risky, but Richard hoped that some appropriate precautions could help avoid further risks.

“Either way, we’re adjusting our strategy, and that means a new landing site.” Richard stated. “Subtle didn’t work, recon didn’t work, so we’re going in blunt, loud, and direct. All good communication is based on clarity, and we are not going to be misunderstood.”

Bradford raised an eyebrow. “So, we’re touching down in a major city? What about the local military forces, they might mistake us for someone else, maybe even attack us.”

Richard paused, that was a fair point. An unknown radar contact belining for your city center was usually bad news back home, and not just because of the Covenant. Even if this planet didn’t have a history of insurrection like UNSC did, that didn’t mean they would regard the approaching UNSC without suspicion.

_I suppose that’s just another risk we’ll have to keep in mind._ Richard thought.

“Actually, monsieur Bradford, that brings up something that I wanted to raise your attention to.” Curie said, looking to Richard for permission to continue with her topic.

“Go ahead.” Richard replied with a nod.

“When we were down on the planet, our Pelican was within the range of a radio signal.” Curie explained. She displayed a representation of the signal’s wavelength using the holotable, and Richard noted that it was unusually low-strength. “Following substantial examination, I now believe it to be a sort of primitive radar system.”

Richard raised an eyebrow in confusion. “I thought that this planet had no artificial radio signatures?”

“Neither did I, at least, not until I realized a repeating oddity in the background radiation.” Curie said. “Following our visit to the planet’s surface, I now realize that there is, in fact, artificial radio signatures, but they lose almost all of their strength before they can leave the atmosphere.”

Richard and Bradford exchanged looks of confusion. “That… doesn’t sound right.”

“Oh Believe me Commander, there is nobody more irritated by this than me.” Curie said, allowing a hint of annoyance into her tone of voice. “Hundreds of years of well-documented study, including that which was done by my namesake, will now need to be re-examined because of this single discrepancy.”

“Don’t be so quick to make assumptions, there’s enough scientific oddities about this planet. The radios acting funny is far from the weirdest thing about this place.” Bradford pointed out.

“That theory certainly offers more reassurance.” Curie replied. “Although that does not explain why our Pelican was not detected, if we were indeed trespassing, why would the soldiers hesitate to shoot us down?”

“I might actually have an answer, Ma’am.” Ensign Gillespie interjected from his station. “A primitive radar system like you're talking about probably wouldn’t detect any of our aircraft, they might not even spot the Dominion.”

“That makes sense.” Bradford added. “If they're using early-generation radar, they’d run into our radar countermeasures, they’d never see us coming.”

“That’s good for us. If they have no useful radar systems, we can land practically anywhere we want.” Richard said.

“The radio signatures given off by Remnant become more confusing the more I examine them.” Curie said. “There’s nothing that suggests this planet has nuclear technology of any kind, they likely haven’t even discovered nuclear power.”

_I don’t know if that’s good news or bad news. _Richard thought._ On one hand, they probably lack fusion power, on the other hand, they have no WMDs._

Curie however, seemed unperturbed. “What an opportunity, we can truly help these people!”

“Only if they don’t shoot at us Curie, and given our existing track record, maybe giving them nukes isn’t such a good idea.” Richard replied grimly.

“That is a fair argument, perhaps later down the road?” Curie suggested.

“Respectfully Sir, let’s stay focused.” Bradford critically interjected.

“You’re right.” Richard said. “Now, my plan is very simple. Curie has located what appears to be the least militarized nation on the planet. It’s small, occupying only a small portion of this southern continent.”

Richard pointed out the specific continent on the planet to Bradford, who looked at it with a hint of familiarity. “It reminds me of Australia.”

“It does have some similarities, doesn’t it?” Richard rhetorically asked. “Nevermind that, what’s important is how we’re going to make contact with the people on the ground.”

“If you’re thinking of bringing the Dominion into the atmosphere, it’s a bad idea.” Bradford said. “I know she’s rated for it, but we’ll cause a panic.”

“I’m aware, we won’t be doing that.” Richard confirmed. “We’ll take Fireteam Onyx, A squad from Zulu Company, and myself.”

“You’re going, in person?” Bradford asked. “What if you get wounded, or-”

Richard raised a hand to interrupt them. “There’s a risk no matter what, I’m confident in the skills of the Marines and my own intuition to avoid getting hurt.”

_That, and I’m not going to ask anything of my soldiers that I’m unwilling to do myself._ Richard thought.

“That’s not exactly what I meant, let me rephrase that.” Bradford said, Richard could tell he was still somewhat surprised by what Richard had said. “Why not have a liason? Or better yet, just someone to deliver a radio?”

“Because Fairfire and Clark are both unqualified for a first contact scenario. I’m also no diplomat, but I like to think all of that leadership training at Reach Naval Academy was Time well spent.” Richard explained. “As for why I’m doing this in person…”

Richard paused, actually putting his reasoning into words was difficult, but he eventually found a solid example to make his case upon.

“I want you to think back to the Covenant, Bradford, and how they announced their existence to the UNSC.” Richard said. “I’m hoping that a friendly, human face-to-face conversation can maybe help break the ice a little better.”

“Well, I suppose I can’t stop you.” Bradford said, his displeasure with Richard’s decision still obvious. “You know, touching down with that many men… they might get the wrong impression.”

“I know.” Richard said. “But we made the mistake of going underprepared once, we will not repeat that again.”

Bradford gave a short, doubtful nod, but did not question Richard’s logic. In truth, he was also concerned about coming off to aggressively, but he wagered that as long as he made it clear that he was only concerned for the safety of him and his men, the locals would understand his logic.

_Especially once they learn about our other attempt at First Contact._ Richard thought. “We’ll be setting down in what we believe is the capital city of this nation. Despite what appears to be high-density residences, the local airfield has an unusually small amount of aircraft.” 

“Fourteen, an unusually small number for a settlement of this size.” Curie interjected. “With two hangers I cannot see through, and only one of which is of any substantial size. That being said, their aircraft do have a rather interesting design.”

“This is a big risk.” Bradford pointed out. “What’s our backup option?”

“If this mission goes south, we wait until Ensign Gillespie, Curie, and Lieutenant Chen can piece together how their communication systems work, and make contact via radio.” Richard said.

“Well, that option is certainly safer.” Bradford noted. “I certainly hope this works.”

“Likewise Lieutenant. Now, let's hash out the finer details.” Richard said.

**Schnee Manor**   
**October 3rd, 0124 Standard Time, 2552**

Jacques could not believe what he was hearing. He’d been woken up in the dead of night with a priority message from some remote hellhole that he apparently owned.

_Shows how important it is if I forgot it existed._ Jacques thought.

But it was what he was being told that was the most upsetting, no less than eleven security personnel dead, and all of the survivors were badly injured. Even most of the White Fang animals that were so intent on ruining everything that he had accomplished mostly only operated with barely-trained insurgents. And while there was the odd raid that ended with tragedy, it was the number of those that had been left dead that shocked him, but it only got worse.

“What do you mean it wasn’t the White Fang?” Jacques demanded. “Who the hell else could it be?!”

“Sir, some of the survivors reported the attackers identified themselves as United Nations Space Command in a brief discussion before they resisted arrest.” The Manager of the mine that had been attacked reported.

Jacques clenched his free hand in frustration. “So what, you want me to go to the Board and tell them we got attacked by Aliens?!”

“No Sir, I certainly don’t.” The Manager clarified, a hint of nervousness in his voice. “I’ve already reported it to the military, but we both know that’s going nowhere.”

“Did they at least give any indication of how they got out there?” Jacques demanded. “That whole damn area should be flooded with Grimm!”

“Some of the survivors report they escaped via some kind of airship, they said it was a dark green color, and didn’t look like any Atlas model. It was also heavily armed, and it managed to kill a number of our troops.” The Manager answered.

“Well find out who the hell they are, and bury them in a shallow grave!” Jacques barked.

“I’m already underfunded out here…” The manager began to explain. Jacques rolled his eyes.

“You’ll get what you need, talk to the treasury department, I’m going to bed.” Jacques said before ending the call and returning to his restless sleep.


	13. Chapter 13

**Southern hemisphere of an unknown planet, airspace of an unknown nation**

**October 3rd, 1232 Standard Time, 2552**

The pre-mission quiet was something that Fairfire had learned to savor. She'd been forced to learn that once you touched down on the ground, there was no guarantee you would be going home anytime soon, or at all. And while she was hopeful that the Commander's altered strategy might change their fortunes, she couldn't ignore her worries. Still, even despite the risk of death and the risk of losing all of your friends, she wouldn't give up life as a Helljumper for anything.

Bodyguard duty was something that ODSTs weren't exactly trained for, but that didn't mean Fairfire was insulted that she and her squad had been handed such a duty. If there was a risk to Commander Miller's life once they touched down, it would be her team's job to kill the threat and get the Commander out of harm's way. But ideally, all that she and her squad would have to do would be stand around and look pretty while the Commander made first contact.

Commander Miller, or Richard, as Ben called him, was still something of an enigma to her. Ben had said something about him having a past with ONI, which was rarely a good thing, but that didn't mean that Fairfire didn't trust him.

_If the Spartan thinks he's capable, he probably is._ Fairfire thought. Although she'd never bought into the excitement around the Spartans, Ben's opinions and experiences would certainly be worth consulting.

Ultimately, time would judge if he was a capable commanding officer. The first thing he had done right was to take extra precautions. The comforting weight of the M90A Shotgun cradled in her arms reminded her that they weren't running light equipment this time. She'd been caught off-guard by those dickheads with the energy shields once, next time, she would be ready.

She had also been able to see some of the satellite images of the city where they were going to land, and realized it was very reminiscent of her home colony, Emerald Cove. That brought a multitude of conflicting emotions, on the one hand, it reminded her of home, and her time there had been mostly pleasant. On the other hand, her home had probably been turned to glass after it was abandoned early in the war.

The silence was interrupted when the pilot, a woman with the callsign of "Fireball" spoke over the radio. "Sir, we're about a minute out of the airspace. I'm seeing some strange radio-waves, over."

"Ignore them, proceed with the landing. Make sure not to land in anyone's path." Richard responded with his earpiece.

"Can't Sir, the airport is a lot busier than recon suggested." Fireball said. "If we attempt a landing, we'd risk a collision, especially if they can't see us on Radar."

"Damnit, standby." Richard replied. "I'm coming up to the cockpit, we'll need to find a new landing site."

"Aye, sir." Fireball said as she awaited the arrival of the Commander.

_Of course, even in the air we get stuck in traffic. typical. _Fairfire thought. _Well, at least we're not getting shot at._

While Commander Richard discussed their next course of action with the pilots, the cabin was left mostly silent, save for the steady hum of the Pelican's engines. It was interrupted when he returned only around two minutes later, followed by the feeling of the vessel moving again.

"We've picked a good-sized field in front of a large residential building.." Richard briefed. "We'll just have to explain our difficulties once we land."

"We're landing in someone's front lawn?" Fairfire asked, a bit incredulous.

"Forgive me for my caution, but that is very different from what we had initially planned." Curie said, her voice rich with concern.

"That may be true Curie, but our plan assumed their airstrip would be clear for us to land without causing them any issues, and that is not the case." Richard said.

"We're still making first contact in what might be someone's flower garden." Fairfire pointed out.

"There's no obstructions, we can safely land with room to spare." Richard explained. "It seems like it was intended to be flat and empty, save the occasional palm tree."

"Could be a golf course." Nathan suggested.

"What the hell is golf?" Yu asked.

"It's an old sport where you hit balls with sticks and try to get them into holes." Nathan explained. "They played it a bunch on Charleston IV."

"I thought that was Lacrosse?" Yu asked.

"I've never heard of that." Nathan said, now sharing her confusion.

"Both of you, shut up and get your heads screwed on straight." Fairfire ordered, to which they silently complied.

Only a minute or two later, the intercom of the Pelican chirped, signaling that it was being activated, before Fireball's voice came through the comm. "Making our final approach now. Not seeing anything out of the ordinary just yet."

_Here we go…_ Fairfire thought.

Even though she'd already checked a dozen times over, she confirmed that her weapons were saftied and would not fire without her express intent. She noticed some of her squadmates do the same, and judging by the silence alone, she could tell that her squad was feeling more than a little nervous.

"Keep it nice and smooth everyone, all things go well, we won't even have to do anything too dangerous this time around." Fairfire said, hoping to offer them a bit of reassurance. "Still, heads on a swivel, these people could try something."

Her squadmates all gave her some kind of response, ranging from a "Yes Sergeant" or a simple, silent nod. A moment later, Fairfire felt the telltale lurch of the Pelican making contact with the ground after a slow and controlled descent.

"This is it, let's get this done professionally and efficiently." Richard said before turning on his radio. "Fireball, pop the hatch."

The rear hatch to the Pelican opened, with Ben and Fairfire being the first out the door, followed by the rest of the squad.

Richard's description had been accurate, the landing site they had selected consisted of grass and concrete walkways, which was surprisingly flat. Going through the center was a large paved road leading towards a large and ornate wooden building.

_Whoever lives there has got to be important._ Fairfire thought before realizing that Richard had probably selected this position to land with that exact thought in mind. _Well, at least they'll notice our arrival._

At the other end of the road appeared to be some sort of small shopping district, occupied by what had to be the strangest group of civilians Fairfire had ever seen. At a glance, they appeared mostly normal, but a closer inspection revealed that most of the people had some sort of animalistic feature. Not like any sort of malformity or damage to their bodies, but actual additional features, such as ears and tails of different animals. They moved in such a convincing manner, that for a moment, Fairfire was genuinely wondering if they were actually real.

_I know that some planets back home have strange fashion trends, but this is a whole new level. _Fairfire thought. _Impressive that they move so lifelike, I wonder how they do that?_

All of them watched the newly arrived soldiers with a great variety of expressions, namely fear, curiosity, and distrust. It wasn't a mystery as to why, from what little she knew, apparently first contact with the Covenant had gone much the same way.

_Hopefully we won't end up repeating history._ Fairfire thought. "What are our orders Sir?"

"Hold here for now, let's give whoever is in charge some time to think before they decide on how to respond to our arrival." Richard answered.

For a full, agonizing minute, the ODSTs stood beside their Pelican with Richard. The civilians on the street didn't stick around to stare, most of them would either move along with what they were doing, or made a concentrated effort to leave. Throughout all of it, Richard didn't seem in the least bit fazed, as if everything was happening exactly how he had predicted it.

Fairfire was shaken from her thoughts by the sound of a slamming door, originating from the large house up the road. Turning her head she saw one of the two giant doors to the house had been opened and a trio of men had emerged. Two of them wore seemingly ceremonial outfits of some kind, and carried heavy-looking spears. Using the magnification on her Visor, Fairfire could also make out that both of them had very unusual-looking sidearms on their hips.

_Bodyguards._ She noted, although actually judging their capabilities would be very difficult. Did they carry the same discrete shields as the men from the other continent had? She couldn't gauge how much of a threat they would be in a fight.

The other was a bearded man wearing a large coat with what appeared to be some armored plates. His whole outfit consisted of a large amount of purple and silver accents, but his most defining feature was his size. The man was very tall and extremely muscular, being almost similar in disposition to Ben, but without any of the armor.

The trio approached the Pelican and Fairfire's team, visibly concerned, but without a shred of fear. Richard stepped forwards to meet them, accompanied by Ben and Fairfire. The two parties both stopped around the same time, leaving only a couple of meters distance between them.

Richard opened his mouth to speak, but the man with the purple coat spoke first.

"Who are you, and why are you here?" The man asked, his tone betraying no malice but still carrying the weight of vague intimidation.

Richard responded immediately. "My name is Commander Richard Miller of the UNSC. My intentions are to establish peaceful communications with the Leader of this… Settlement."

Fairfire noted the exchange in glances between the coated man's two bodyguards, but he did not seem at all fazed by Richard's words. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with that organization. Tell me, what are your intentions once you meet our Chieftain?"

_Chieftain?_ Fairfire noted. The only two things that she had ever associated the word "Chief" with were either Brute Chieftains or Navy ranks, so it was not what she had expected these people to call their leader. _It could just be a ceremonial title, or maybe they really do have a Chiefdom._

She also noted how rather than answering any of Richard's questions, the large man had replied with his own. Clearly, this man held some position of authority, or at least had some kind of diplomatic experience.

Defying her expectations, Richard actually answered completely truthfully. "My intentions are to establish diplomatic contact with the governmental body of this state, and to obtain more knowledge as to where exactly we are."

_Huh, maybe Richard does have the makings of a politician._ Fairfire thought, noticing just how dry and formal his voice had become.

The bearded man folded his arms and stared at Richard, as if trying to decide whether his claims could be trusted. He also spared a quick glance at Ben, and didn't visibly react when Ben stared back through his golden visor.

_It makes sense, he's pretty clearly the most armed._ Fairfire thought.

Finally, the man spoke again, this time with noticeably less suspicion. "My name is Ghira Belladonna, Chieftain of Menagerie."

_Of all the places we could land at, we pick their Leader's driveway. At least it's better than the minefield._ Fairfire thought, amused at the strange turn of events.

Richard seemed visibly relieved at how Ghira had offered the slightest break in the tension, although whether Richard was acting or not, she honestly couldn't tell. "I see. I apologize for our unannounced arrival, we attempted to contact you with our Dropship's communications equipment, but it appears that whatever systems you use here are incompatible with ours."

Ghira nodded faintly. "That's not unexpected, I'm afraid our CCTS Relay has been down for some time."

There was a momentary pause after Ghira spoke, and Fairfire could spot a familiar emotion amid his very expressive face, resentment.

_Sabotage maybe, evidence of infighting?_ Fairfire speculated. _But what does CCTS stand for?_

"I'm sorry to hear that, I imagine that would have been a much easier way for us to have met." Richard said. "But now that we're both here, I'd like to discuss a few things with you, if you wouldn't mind."

"I wouldn't mind at all." Ghira answered. "That being said, I do need to know more about you and your organization before I let you go any further. It is my duty to ensure the safety of my people."

"Very Well." Richard said. "Myself and the crew of my ship are part of an Interstellar Agency called the 'United Nations Space Command'. We represent the scientific, exploratory, and military interests of the Unified Earth Government."

In the brief period of silence that followed, Fairfire tried to gauge exactly how Ghira and his guards would respond to the revelation. The foreign soldiers on the northern continent had not believed them to truly be from another planet, would the Chieftain of this other nation?

It was harder than Fairfire expected to gauge Ghira's reaction. Even with such an expressive face, he did an impressive job at concealing his true thoughts. Still, his eyes momentarily glanced past them, staring directly at their parked Pelican, a giveaway that he was evaluating the legitimacy of Richard's claim.

Richard must have also sensed Ghira's internal conflict, as he continued his explanation. "Our civilization consists of hundreds of different planets, but your planet is clearly not one of them. As such, we are a bit... confused, as to how or why exactly there is a human settlement here."

"Human?" Ghira asked, seemingly taken aback by Richard's statement. He quickly replaced the look of confusion on his face with one of stoicism.

_Was there something weird about that statement?_ Fairfire thought. Perhaps Richard had committed some kind of social blunder?

Despite his reaction, Ghira seemed to at the very least be considering what Richard was saying. "Nevermind that, I believe we have much to discuss. Would you care to come inside?"

"Of course." Richard replied with a nod, before turning to Fairfire. "Staff Sergeant, you and Ben will accompany me inside, the rest of your team will stay and guard the Dropship."

"Sir, yes Sir." She replied. She relayed her orders to the rest of the squad over TEAMCOM and followed closely behind Richard.

While they walked, Fairfire noticed that Ghira was subtly examining her and Ben, specifically, their weapons.

"You've certainly come heavily armed…" Ghira observed aloud.

"Our first attempt at a landing did not go as well as we had hoped." Richard admitted. "We were attacked by a human paramilitary force. I insisted that we bring heavier weapons in order to better defend ourselves, but seeing as you haven't attempted to murder us, I would say that perhaps I was a bit paranoid."

Fairfire was fairly surprised to hear Richard's answer, she had expected him to be the kind of man that took pride from paranoia, and not one who spoke so bluntly and honestly. _Then again, he could just be putting on an act._

"A paramilitary force?" Ghira asked. "Where did you land? I could help you find out who they are."

For a moment it looked like Richard wasn't going to answer, but he must have decided the risk was worth it. "On the northernmost continent of this planet, outside of what we think was a small mining town. The soldiers we encountered operated heavy armor and energy shields."

"Sir, if I may?" Ben interjected, to which Richard gave him a silent nod. "I… remember, that they had an insignia on their shoulder pads, a twelve-pointed snowflake."

_Curie definitely told him that._ Fairfire immediately noticed, but Ben had been careful to conceal her presence. _That's probably a good idea, just in case something does go wrong here…_

Ghira's two guards looked at each other silently, some unseen understanding passing between them. Ghira meanwhile, just shook his head sadly. "I understand. You must have landed somewhere in Mantle, and I'm afraid I'm already familiar with the organization that you ran into."

When they reached the door to the house, the two guards opened the path for them. As she entered Fairfire found herself in a very nice front hallway, with a very apparent nature-themed aesthetic.

_Looks just like home..._ Fairfire felt as she felt a chill go down her spine, which she quickly banished.

"Who are they?" Richard asked.

"I believe you encountered the…" Ghira began, but he trailed off as soon as he noticed a woman approaching them from down the hallway. She wore a black and white dress and some admittedly impressive jewelry. Sticking out of her long black hair was a pair of large cat ears.

_Again with the animal parts, and one of those guards had a rabbit's tail, surely I'm not the only one who's seeing this?_ Fairfire said, wiping her visor clean just to reinforce her confidence in what she was seeing, and yet, the strange headdress remained.

"Is everything okay Dear?" The woman asked. "Who are these people?"

Her voice carried a sense of slight fear, which Fairfire couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards. No doubt she and Ben had something of an intimidating appearance, what with their heavy weapons and armor. To help her feel a little more at ease, Fairfire depolarized her visor, but the gesture didn't seem to be noticed by anyone.

"Everything is perfectly okay. Commander Miller, this is my wife Kali." Ghira said, gesturing towards the woman. "Kali, this is Commander Miller. He and his men are from..."

Richard sensed the difficulty that Ghira was having finding the right words and interjected with his own explanation. "We're from the United Nations Space Command, the space agency of the Unified Earth Government."

Kali's expression of utter bewilderment was one that Fairfire found it difficult not to relate with. "...What do you mean?"

There was an awkward pause before Ghira answered. "They're... from another planet."

Kali looked at Richard, Fairfire, and Ben once more, now with a sense of curiosity, rather than concern. She still looked a little bit scared, but frankly, Fairfire didn't blame her. Fairfire shot her a friendly smile, which seemed to offer her a bit of reassurance. There was also an undeniable sense of doubt that radiated off of her, but for the moment, she kept those to herself.

"I see." Kali said. She nervously scratched the cat ears on her head, and Fairfire could've sworn they twitched just before she did so. "Well, don't let me interrupt you, I'm sure you're here on very important business, right?"

"Nothing unpleasant, you don't need to worry about us." Richard answered. "And thank you, ma'am."

Kali silently nodded and went a different way from where Ghira was leading the small party of soldiers. He led them through the house until they reached a large library-like room where everyone took a seat except Ben, whom Ghira gave a wary glance.

"I don't mean to be rude, but the armor is a bit... heavy." Ben explained.

"I see." Ghira said, shifting his gaze over to Richard. "Now, tell me what you're doing here, and what you want from Menagerie."

_Simple and direct, I can respect that._ Fairfire thought, it seemed like Ghira had his head screwed on right.

Richard raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Menagerie? Is that what this planet is called?"

"No, Menagerie is the name of the Faunus nation, the planet is called Remnant." Ghira answered. "I must insist you answer my question."

Richard nodded. "Our vessel arrived in this region of space by accident several weeks ago, our intentions were to search this planet for materials to create certain spare parts that we require, but as soon as we reached orbit, we realized that your planet was inhabited. As such, we attempted to land and establish first contact with a human settlement, but the people my away team met instigated a fight."

"Which brings us to now." Ghira said with a frown. "What is it that you want from us?"

Fairfire didn't even realize that Richard had dodged the question until Ghira pointed it out.

Richard scowled. "I was getting there, I need information about this planet, who lives here, and where. My men were placed into a combat situation for no good reason, and I'd like to know who's responsible, and why. In the future we can worry about properly establishing diplomatic relations, but right now, the safety of my crew and the people of this planet is my priority."

Ghira remained perfectly silent for a good ten seconds as he clearly muddled over how to respond. He had a very good poker-face, which wasn't surprising for a politician, but it made it hard for Fairfire to tell if he was believing any of what Richard was saying, at least, until he finally answered. "Is that all?"

Richard nodded. "That's all right now. Once I have a little more information to work with, then we can start worrying about figuring out what we can do for your civilization."

Ghira seemed to be somewhat satisfied with Richard's answer. "Alright, I can help you. But first, I need your assurances that you're not going to start any unnecessary conflicts."

"I can assure you Chieftain, a war is the last thing that we want." Richard said, his voice polite, but very firm.

Ghira turned his attention to Ben. "You mentioned earlier that the men you fought had an insignia, what was it?"

Ben silently looked to Richard for permission to answer, which he silently gave with a nod. "It was a twelve-pointed snowflake, one painted on each shoulder, and one more on the breastplate. I assumed it was some kind of regimental marker."

Ghira shook his head sadly. "I have no way of validating what you say, but if that is true, you were attacked by the Schnee Dust Company."

Ghira went on to explain that the Schnee Dust Company, or SDC, was a megacorporation based out of a nation called the Kingdom of Atlas. Apparently, they mined some kind of material called "Dust", the primary source of power used on Remnant for just about everything from weapons to electricity.

"I see, and you believe that employees of this company are the people who attacked my men?" Richard asked. It was evident that he was struggling to digest all of this new information, so Fairfire double-checked her helmet camera, and ensured that it was recording everything that was happening.

_Might be a little privacy-breaching, but hey, if it means we don't have to go killing anyone, I'll do it._ Fairfire thought.

"I'm not sure if that matches up." Ben chimed in, his voice doubtful even through the speaker in his helmet. "The people we engaged were very obviously soldiers, they had their own standardized armor and rifles, and seemed to understand basic squad tactics, they even had energy shields. What would miners need with that kind of hardware?"

"The SDC employs their own private security force to deal with the actions of certain... radical elements of society." Ghira answered. "The Kingdom of Atlas largely lets them operate independently."

"On that note, do you have a map, or something that we could take with us?" Richard asked.

Ghira nodded. One moment, I'll see what I can find."

_Twenty Credits says he pulls out one of those old paper maps that they used on sailboats._ Fairfire jokingly thought, looking at the massive bookshelves around her. Paperback books were still fairly common back home, but she had never seen so many in one place.

"That would be greatly appreciated." Richard gratefully nodded. "As you can guess, we're a bit starved for any kind of information we can get. We can see a lot of things from orbit, but borders aren't one of them."

Ghira held true to his word, pulling out a rather stylized map of the world complete with borders and landmarks. "Here, I hope this can help answer some of your questions."

_Called it._ Fairfire thought smugly.

He handed it to Richard, who gave the map a quick examination, before handing it off to Ben, probably so that Curie could get a better look at it. "Thank you, but if I might ask… why haven't you settled the rest of this land?"

"What do you mean?" Ghira asked, he actually seemed to be a bit taken aback by the question.

"Once we reached a steady orbit over Remnant, we noticed that most of the planet is ripe with fertile land and abundant resources, yet it remains totally uninhabited. We couldn't find any kind of hazard that would prevent you from exploiting them." Richard elaborated.

Ghira seemed almost confused by what Richard was saying. "Here on Menagerie the main factor limiting our expansion is the desert, but the Grimm play a large part in our lack of expansion as well."

"Grimm?" Richard asked.

"Do you not have Grimm where you come from?"

"I'm afraid we don't, what is a Grimm?" Richard asked.

Ghira took a deep breath, obviously a bit envious. "Grimm are monsters, in the most literal sense of the word."

"Monsters?" Richard asked, after a moment's hesitation.

_Maybe that's what those weird bear things were during our first landing. _Fairfire thought.

"Yes, monsters." Ghira said. "Most of them resemble animals of some kind or horrible versions of them. They attack any sort of Human or Faunus life or anything they build."

_Yeah, definitely those._ Fairfire thought. "That sounds like what we encountered during our first landing."

Again Richard took a minute to think before responding. "Hostile wildlife is something we're well accustomed to. But even on unusually dangerous colonies, we've never encountered something as violent as what you're describing."

"Grimm are quite different from any other animal." Ghira clarified. "They don't eat, drink, or seemingly even sleep. They hunt only for sport, and they're everywhere."

"Hmm, maybe we can help with that." Richard offered.

Ghira gave a morbid laugh. "I wish it was that simple. Even the most professional and massive armies, led by the best Huntsmen Remnant has ever seen haven't been able to push them back."

_Huntsmen? _Fairfire thought, noticing the odd choice of words. _Well, I guess they are fighting wild animals._

"Well, maybe it's time to change tactics." Richard said. "We'll have our own look, but first, we need to sort out our current issue with the SDC."

"Of course." Ghira said. "I'm afraid I can't offer much more information than that, at least, nothing concrete."

"Your assistance is appreciated." Richard replied. "We'll do our best to stop any more conflicts from breaking out."

"That's good to hear." Ghira said. "Were there any other questions you had that I might be able to help with?"

Even though Fairfire knew that she was supposed to remain silent, there was one overarching question that had been haunting her ever since she had set foot on Menagerie.

"Sir, may I? I'll keep it simple." Fairfire interjected.

"I don't see why not, go ahead Staff Sergeant." Richard said.

"The animal ears and tails and such, what's going on there?" Fairfire asked, trying to be polite. "I get it's probably an odd question, but I just wanted to know if it was some kind of cultural thing."

Ghira was uncomfortably silent as he carefully examined Richard, Ben, and Fairfire once again, seemingly looking for something, but not finding it. "Do you... not have Faunus where you come from?"

"That's something I meant to ask about, you said that word earlier, Faunus." Richard commented. "What does that mean?"

Ghira grimaced before holding up his hand with his palm facing towards himself, before extending a set of claws.

"Woah." Fairfire said, more than a little surprised. Ben tensed up a bit before realizing the man meant no harm by the action.

"Faunus are like humans, but they have a feature from an animal. A good example is cat ears, or in my case a set of claws... and some extra hair on the wrist." Ghira explained.

Suddenly, it made a lot more sense as to why Ghira had been taken aback when Richard referred to Menagerie as a human settlement. _Then again, they sure do look and act like humans, how different can they really be?_

After the initial surprise wore off, Fairfire realized that it probably wasn't polite to be silently staring. "...Yeah, we don't have anything like that."

"A shame too, I can think of more than a few situations in which retractable claws would be useful." Ben added.

"They have their downsides." Ghira said as he retracted the claws back into his fingers. "Faunus are looked down upon and mistreated by a good portion of humanity, and it's caused plenty of problems... for all of us."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Richard said. "We've had our own experiences with discrimination causing problems where we come from, all throughout history. It hasn't been relevant for a few centuries, but believe me when I say that we had to learn how to make an equal society the hard way."

Ghira shook his head. "That's certainly disappointing, I was hoping that with only one species in your civilization, you wouldn't have had to deal with that. Although, I'm certainly glad to hear it's less of a problem for you nowadays."

"I wish I could say that we didn't have our own problems." Richard said. "On that note, I did promise to explain what the UNSC is, and in order to do that, you'll need to know some background information. I'll try to keep it concise, but I will be trying to explain the entire history of modern humanity. so please, give me some leniency."

Ghira's eyebrows peeked up in interest. "Go right ahead, I'm listening."

"If you have questions, just stop me and ask." Richard offered.


	14. Chapter 14

**October 3rd, 1252 Standard Time, 2552**

**Belladonna Residence, Menagerie**

When Ghira first met Commander Richard, he didn't truly believe what the man said to be the truth. When he had welcomed Richard into his home, it had not been to discuss any kind of diplomatic future between some sort of extraterrestrial civilization and Menagerie, Ghira had simply wanted to find out Richard's true intentions. Many lairs had claimed to want peace in the past, and Ghira had no reason to assume that this man and his soldiers were any different.

But as Richard spoke, Ghira was surprised at how genuinely honest the man seemed to be. Ghira's time in the White Fang had given him a reliable ability to tell when somebody was lying, and from everything that he could see, Richard was either convinced what he was saying was true, or that it was actually true. Slowly, it began to dawn on him that there was some truth to Richard's words, and as the UNSC Commander continued, Ghira realized that he had no intention of hiding any grizzly truths.

Perhaps due to Richard's occupation in the military, he focused very heavily on his civilizations' history of conflicts. As Earth had no Grimm, there was no one unifying enemy to force Humanity to work together, and without that foe, Humanity had turned on itself. Everything Ghira heard from Richard made his stomach curl up in a knot, for thousands of years, Humanity had butchered each other in a savage bloodlust, seemingly taking any excuse possible to create more devastation. Segregation, totalitarianism, and genocide were apparently not foreign concepts to the UNSC, something made apparent by the glassy stares he recieved from Commander Richard and the woman known as Fairfire when he asked about them.

While war between nations on Remnant was certainly far from a foreign concept, it was rare, sporadic, and often short-lived. The only war that would be considered "major" in the eyes of the UNSC, at least by Richard's claim, was the Great War, which he seemed a little bit too eager to talk about.

_He is a military officer, it makes sense that he would want to know more about Remnant's biggest conflict._ Ghira thought. Nevertheless, he answered any questions related to conflict as vaguely as he could, Richard still had yet to prove himself as truly trustworthy.

Once they got back onto the topic of Earth's history, Richard skipped over a lot of what he considered "ancient" history, which was apparently only a couple of thousand of years. Compared to Remnant's vast and largely unrecorded history, that seemed rather modest in length. However, he went into far more detail surrounding humanity's space exploration and colonization. He had hoped that once this strange other civilization of humans became spacefaring that things would get better for them, that perhaps Humanity could finally achieve some Semblance of peace, but it seemed that it was not meant to be.

War had followed them, throughout hundreds of years of infighting and civil conflicts, the UNSC had become more a military force than a scientific and exploration branch, as had initially been intended. But as Richard continued to tell his people's story, Ghira began to get the feeling that he was building up to something.

Unfortunately, he was right.

Richard didn't spare any messy details about the Covenant, or the war that had consumed their civilization for the last quarter of a century. He explained how the alien technology far outclassed even the comparatively amazing technologies Richard claimed that humanity had achieved, and how it consistently resulted in defeat after defeat for humanity despite ferocious fighting. Humanity was losing, quite badly, by the sounds of things.

But by far the worst part was the casualties he claimed humanity had suffered, numbering in the tens of billions. Ghira had trouble even wrapping his head around that many people existing, let alone being slaughtered. The Covenant had no regard for civilian safety, in fact, Richard said they actively targeted civilian targets in order to maximize their damage. That particular statement painted uncomfortable parallels between the Covenant and Grimm in his mind. "Glassing" was a word he used frequently, where the Covenant would use immensely powerful energy weapons to burn entire planets, leaving only a fine sphere of glass-like silicates, boiling oceans and burning away the atmosphere in the process.

_If he means to make me feel uneasy, he's doing a very good job. I don't even want to think about what a force like that would do to Remnant, let alone Menagerie. _Ghira thought, prompting one of Ghira's few interruptions.

"What happens if the Covenant find Remnant?" Ghira asked.

"It's remarkably unlikely." Richard said, offering Ghira some relief. "The odds of us finding you out here are frankly absurd, it shouldn't have been possible."

"You dodged the question." Ghira pointed out grimly.

"If they do find us, then we will try and fight back. I promise you I will fight to the last man to defend your planet." Richard firmly stated. "But we only have one ship, and a whole planet to defend. The Covenant would almost certainly send more than just one ship, and their ships are far superior to ours. With no other orbital or even planetside forces capable of fighting back, we would almost certainly lose."

"...And then?" Ghira asked, not betraying a hint of emotion.

"Mercy isn't a part of the Covenant's doctrine." The large armored figure known standing beside Richard spoke up. "They would settle for nothing less than your complete annihilation."

The man in the armor, whom Richard only called "Ben", gave Ghira an odd sense of unease he frankly couldn't explain. Putting aside the fact the armor itself looked like it would embarrass even the most talented Atlas engineer, his demeanor suggested an almost robotic attitude. It was only broken by his occasional comment to clarify something Richard said, besides that, the man was like a statue.

_Not to mention he's even taller than me, and I've banged my head on enough doorways to know he probably does the same. _Ghira thought.

"But like I said, the odds of them finding us are quite literally astronomical." Richard said. "Our shipboard A.I said that since your radio signature was hard to detect by us, and it's likely they would have the same problem. The biggest thing you have to be afraid of is them seeing our ship, which we're already working on fixing."

_That's somewhat reassuring. _Ghira thought before speaking. _Although I wonder what he means by A.I. Could that some form of rank, or does it share the same meaning as it does on Remnant?_

"Well, that is certainly good news." Ghira said. "I appreciate your… honesty."

"I figured I would let you know where the rest of Humanity stands, since you're in the dark." Richard replied. "It's up to you if you want to share any of this information, but I suggest you don't for the time being, we don't want to cause a panic."

_He still counts us as part of the rest of humanity, I wonder if that's on a national level or if he counts Faunus as just another kind of human?_ Ghira thought.

"Like I said, it's appreciated." Ghira said. "On that topic, it seems like you are in far more danger than we are. We have our problems, but at least we aren't in constant danger like you are."

"What about the Grimm?" Richard asked. "You said that they're attracted to negative emotions, wouldn't they be drawn to major settlements like this one?"

"They lack coordination." Ghira answered. However, the look of confusion on Richard's face reminded him that he was talking to somebody who genuinely had no idea what a Grimm was until half-an-hour ago. "An individual Grimm can get smarter as it grows older, but even the variations that move in swarms lack any sort of higher-level intelligence. As such, they lack the ability to overwhelm our defenses, but we can't push out into their territory for anything longer than brief time periods. we're at a constant stalemate."

Richard nodded. "That is quite strange. These Grimm, they're unlike anything we've ever encountered."

"I am glad to hear that, although it certainly seems that you haven't had any absence of hardship without them." Ghira said. His mind was still fixated on the horror that the Covenant presented, as they likely would be for some time.

Richard gave a sympathetic nod, apparently having guessed what Ghira was thinking about. "Believe me, I'd love nothing more than to tell you that everything is going splendidly for us. But I have no reason to lie to you, and you and your people deserve to know the truth."

_Hmm, he seems rather level-headed, especially for a military man._ Ghira thought. _I wonder how he would respond to a more direct question, one that he's been avoiding?_

"Actually, that brings up another matter you touched on earlier. You said you brought your starship here in search of spare parts, did something go wrong?" Ghira asked.

Richard frowned. "I did mention that, you are correct, and I don't see any reason not to tell you the truth of that matter as well. Our vessel was en-route to another assignment when we suffered an equipment malfunction with a crucial navigation system, as a result, we are stranded in this system for the time being."

_Huh, that was much more… direct, than I was expecting. Then again it's hardly the exciting answer I expected._ Ghira thought before replying. "I see, could you fix that system?"

"No, we require a replacement slipspace drive." Richard said. Thankfully he realized that Ghira had no idea what that was. "It's the most complicated device on the ship, it permits faster than light travel via wormhole tunneling, keep in mind that's quite a dramatic oversimplification."

_Wormhole tunneling… I don't even know what that is._ Ghira realized. "I'm uh, afraid we don't have one of those spare."

Richard shook his head in amusement, apparently having found some humor in Ghira's response. "Don't worry, we didn't expect you too. Slipspace drives are extremely complex machines, even some of our best scientists fail to understand exactly how they work."

Ghira raised an eyebrow. "If that's the case, what is your plan?"

"Currently, we have nothing set in stone." Richard answered fairly bluntly. "However, we would have to develop a number of advanced industries here on Remnant to effectively produce any kind of slipspace drive, let alone one advanced enough to get us where we need to go."

"I see." Ghira said. "Menagerie has never been the most industrious nation in the world, but we'd be happy to try and work out a mutually-beneficial agreement."

Richard nodded, but he was very clearly conflicted on the matter. "While there's a hefty amount of protocol suggesting I avoid bartering with a foreign power, I believe that the circumstances mean I can't afford to follow every regulation in the book."

"Any reasonable man would realize that." Ghira tried to reassure him. Although his knowledge of military protocols in general was admittedly quite limited, let alone those used by an extraterrestrial military, he imagined that Richard's superiors would tolerate his breach of a few troublesome rules.

"I certainly hope so." Richard said before waving his hand. "But I'm afraid all of that will have to wait. My men were attacked by a foreign force, and dealing with that takes priority."

"That's more than understandable." Ghira said. "I would recommend contacting the Atlesian government first, that way, you can make it clear and obvious that you mean no harm."

"Sir, that could be a problem." Ben interjected. "Our communications systems aren't compatible with Remnant's international infrastructure."

_He seems… oddly well-informed. _Ghira thought, had the soldier simply been paying attention, or did he know more than he was saying? Judging by the man's bizarre nature, he was more inclined to believe the former.

"I'm sure we could jury rig some kind of modification to our systems, at least, if we knew how anything works on this planet." Fairfire commented, her voice rich with annoyance.

Richard seemed to think it over for a moment before turning back to face Ghira. "Chieftain, do you know where we could learn more about your planet's communication infrastructure? As much as I appreciate your hospitality, I hope you understand that landing a fully-armed squad in a major city was not my first choice."

"I apologize Commander, but I've never been an expert on that sort of thing." Ghira said. "But if you want to talk to a few, there's a Relay Station for the Cross Continental Transmit System. It's the large white building next to the large tower with all of the Radio Equipment. It is technically Atlesian property, but if I asked them, they would probably allow you in, especially since it's been having some technical problems lately."

"I see, we'll see if we can help them." Richard offered. "Well, thank you for your assistance Chieftain, I'll send a squad with some technicians down to your CCTS tower in a few hours. We'll see about fixing your issues and patching our ship's communication network into yours, that way I don't have to land in your front lawn again."

Ghira laughed, it seemed that Richard did have a sense of humor. "It was no problem at all, I'll make sure to let them know that you're coming. I'll also see about finding a place for you to land your ships in the future."

"That would be greatly appreciated." Richard said as he stood up. "As soon as I have this situation sorted out, I'll make sure to contact you again, we have plenty of things to discuss."

"My schedule may be busy, but I can certainly clear some time up." Ghira said before standing up to shake the man's hand, which he accepted.

As the UNSC packed themselves back up into their 'Pelican' Dropship, Ghira wasn't surprised to find Kali had been waiting to talk to him.

"What did they want?" She asked, standing beside him and reaching out to hold his hand.

Ghira held onto her firmly, he understood her nervousness about the UNSC. In fact, the odds were good that he was probably a good deal more nervous than she was. "Just some information. They wanted to know a lot of basic things about Remnant, and about the Schnee Dust Company, apparently there was a fight."

Kali's eyes widened in shock. "The Schnee Dust Company? Oh dear… What do you think they'll do when they find out about..."

She didn't need to finish her statement, Ghira knew well what foul cruelties the SDC was capable of. "I don't know, but whatever happens, I know that we'll be safe."

But it wasn't just Menagerie's safety that Ghira was worried about anymore. While he certainly had no love for the SDC, he knew that the innocent people of Atlas and Mantle could be unwilling victims to any kind of conflict.

**Author's Notes: I'm much happier with this rewritten first contact than the original, it may be shorter, but trust me when I say it's much better.**


	15. Chapter 15

**October 4th, 1434 Standard time, 2552**   
**UNSC Dominion**   
**Gymnasium**

There were no days off for the ODSTs when exercise was concerned. Maintaining physical fitness was a high priority for all branches of service in the UNSC. But their prestigious position as special forces it was important for them to set an example for others. For this reason, it was common to see ODSTs in the gym of the base or ship they were assigned to when not actively assigned other tasks. For the time being, however, it was only Fairfire using the Dominion’s gym.

In truth, Fairfire wasn’t exactly unhappy to be left alone with her thoughts. The day prior when she had been to Menagerie she was reminded of a lot of unpleasant memories, mostly revolving around her home planet of Emerald Cove. The similarities between it and Menagerie gave her and uncomfortable feeling reimiscent of homesickness.

Her second visit to the ground earlier today with her squad didn’t help matters. While the technicians they were escorting fixed the CCTS tower she was left with plenty of time outside in the capital city, Kuo Kuana. The obvious economic problems and overcrowding did little to stop the overall positive and cheerful atmosphere, something that had stayed strong on Emerald Cove, even as the Covenant approached ever closer. The long white sandy beaches, bungalows, and the tropical foliage only drew clearer similarities.

But Emerald Cove was long gone. When the UNSC abandoned the entire region in the face of overwhelming Covenant forces, Emerald Cove was one of the planets that had a successful evacuation, nobody knew the planet’s fate, but it was speculated it was either glassed or simply remained uninhabited, its once-bustling cities left empty and lifeless.

While most would feel depressed or a sense of dread at their home being destroyed, Fairfire would replace those feelings with anger. From the early periods of her life she had been taught that being sad and moping about solved nothing, action was what fixed problems. But as she continued with her established exercise routine she found herself feeling an overbearing sense of loss.

_This is bullshit, that was years ago! I’m over it, so why feel shitty now?_ Fairfire thought as she took out her frustration on one of the punching bags. Time seemed to blur for a bit as she got caught up with her routine. Before she was interrupted by a voice she didn’t recognize startling her.

“You’re overexerting yourself, take a breather.”

She turned and saw it was Ben standing by one of the lockers, putting something away. He was out of his armor, dressed in more traditional marine attire that was probably far more suitable for exercise than a suit of armor that weighed a third of the weight of a warthog.

_I forgot he sounds like that without his armor, less deep and a lot less robotic, but he still talks like he’s doing paperwork._ She thought as she turned to respond. “Excuse me?”

“You’re exerting yourself. It’s a punching bag, not a brute.” Ben pointed out. “Exercise doesn’t require ferocity, It requires patience, discipline, commitment, and time.”

“Yes, I also went to boot camp, thanks.” Fairfire retorted.

“Then why are you disregarding what you’ve been taught?” Ben asked. Despite the sassiness the question implied, he asked it with a straight face and not a hint of smugness, instead a sense of frustration. “You know exactly what you should be doing, but you disregard it.”

_If Nathan asked me that I’d probably punch him, but he’d be more sassy about it._ Fairfire thought. “I don’t recall asking for your input, Sergeant.”

“You didn’t, I made an observation that a fellow squad member was making a mistake, a preventable one.” Ben said. “I can tell just by looking at you that you’ve exceeded your limits for some reason.”

Fairfire stopped and looked down at herself, she did look admittedly quite red and felt quite sore, and a quick glance at the clock on the control terminal for the gym confirmed that she went for far longer than she intended to. That being said, Ben was obviously hinting at a bigger issue.

“Ok, what’s your point?” Fairfire asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

“I want to know why.” Ben stated, obviously a bit frustrated. “Obviously you have a reason you’re straining yourself, and that’s a hazard to our squad. If you tear a tendon and end up in Sickbay, we’re down our leader.”

_Goddamnit, I didn’t think of that._ Fairfire thought. “Look, it’s just some personal problems, I’ll work through it.”

“Is it the Faunus?” Ben asked, his suspicion and persistence undeterred.

“What? No!” Fairfire pointedly dismissed. “What gave you that idea?”

“You were jumpy when we went down to Menagerie today.” Ben accused. “You might have done your job just fine, and the technicians certainly didn’t see it. But Curie pointed out your biometrics were far out of the ordinary, and then I started noticing other habits .”

“Like?” Fairfire asked, her irritation growing.

“You avoided doing any of the speaking with the local techs, you stayed by yourself for the whole mission, and you took every chance you got to go outside and look at the city.” Ben listed. “At first I figured you had some sort of problem with getting put on escort duty, but everyone else in our unit certainly had no issues complaining.”

“When did it become your job to coach me?” Fairfire asked, mildly amused but moreso just annoyed.

“When I got put in your squad.” Ben simply answered with a surprisingly flat tone. “You aren’t the only one with a problem. Yu seems to have some sort of problem with me on a personal level, Nathan was more concerned with his contraband stash under his damn bunk than his job. Poor Meadows actually seemed eager to go down to Menagerie before he got smacked back into the Sickbay by the doctor.”

_Son of a bitch, what a snake._ Fairfire thought.

“Well, I guess that makes you some paragon of perfection then?” Fairfire asked with enough venom that her intention was obvious. “You have a lot of nerve coming up to me and bitching about my squad behind their back. You may be a Spartan, but that doesn't make you special in my eyes. If you want to bitch about my men, you can do it to their face!”

“Behind their backs?” Ben asked, obviously confused. “Yu’s not exactly subtle, her intention seems to be to draw other people’s attention whenever we argue, I’d hardly call that behind her back. And I’ve made my point to Nathan privately, and he agreed he’d turn his stash in if it meant I didn’t turn him in.”

_Huh, so he didn’t go behind their backs. that’s interesting._ Fairfire thought, now more confused than anything. “Out of curiosity, how’d you catch him?” She was actually curious what Nathan had been hiding from her.

“He’s wasn't exactly subtle with hiding it, mostly just alcohol he’s been getting from a partner in crime who apparently has access to officer’s lounge.” Ben explained. “Relax, if he had anything that would get people hurt, I would’ve gone to you instead of him. That being said, minor problems like that are easy to solve. The less time we waste going all the way up the chain of Command with unimportant matters, the better.”

_That’s a clinical way of looking at things._ Fairfire thought as she took a deep breath. “Alright, so what do you want from me?”

“I want to know what the problem is and how I can help.” Ben simply answered. "I solve problems, that's my job."

"You're a soldier." Fairfire pointed out.

"The Covenant are a problem." Ben countered. "But you're dodging my question."

“You know you aren’t responsible for the whole ship, right?” Fairfire asked rhetorically.

“I know that, but from what I remember a squad is supposed to be able to cover for each other's faults.” Ben answered. “If one part of the unit isn’t functioning optimally, the whole unit suffers, and that goes double for the leader.”

_Yeah, very clinical._ Fairfire thought. “A squad isn’t a machine.”

“But we’re supposed to operate like one.” Ben countered. “I’ve seen squads fracture without their leader, and it wasn’t always a physical injury that put them out of action.”

Part of Fairfire’s mind screamed at her to dismiss him by pulling rank, which he would almost certainly obey. Opposing that was the rational part of her mind told her that he wasn’t going to let this go, and he’d probably raise his concerns with the ship’s medical staff. And she did not need a bunch of doctors thinking she’d lost her mind in deep space.

_Then again, maybe that’s what’s got him worried, he is a Spartan after all. Who knows what horrible missions he’s been sent on and what kind of things he’s seen people do?_ Fairfire thought, before making her decision.

“You’re stubborn, and perceptive.” Fairfire observed.

“Curie’s the perceptive one, but I’ll admit I’m stubborn.” Ben joked.

Fairfire gave an unimpressed snort. “All right, you wanna know what my problem is? It is Menagerie, it just... brings back some memories of home.”

“Bad memories?” Ben guessed.

“Not necessarily.” Fairfire answered, her brain trying to process how she felt into words. She normally just swore when she wanted to do that, this was more difficult. “More like... a sense of distance, I guess.”

“I think I understand.” Ben said. “Homesickness? I can’t say I’ve ever had that before, but I can see why you’d feel it. I know Lieutenant Chen is working to get us home as fast as she can.”

“That’s only part of it.” Fairfire conceded. “Have you ever heard of Emerald Cove?”

Ben nodded. “Outer colony, unusual due to its overwhelmingly tropical climate, read a bit about it in one of my classes. I think I can guess the rest, given the state of the war.”

“The Covenant didn’t find it.” Fairfire quickly clarified. “It was evacuated when the whole sector was lost, and nobody knows what happened to it.”

“At least there’s a chance it wasn’t glassed.” Ben pointed out. “That’s more than a lot of people can say.”

“It does seem selfish of me, doesn't it? But somehow it feels even worse, not even knowing what happened.” Fairfire said.

“I can understand that.” Ben reassured. “It’s a natural instinct, humans don’t like unknowns.”

“But that’s not my issue, why does Menagerie of all things bother me?” Fairfire asked, her frustration bleeding into her voice. “Menagerie is similar, but I know the difference. And all of this was years ago!”

“I don’t know.” Ben admitted. “Then again, you said it’s not my responsibility, and I suppose that’s true to an extent. My qualifications don’t include psychology, you should talk to one of the doctors.”

Fairfire sighed. “Fine, whatever, I’ll go talk to the shrink. If it means you'll stop bothering me.”

“Good.” Ben said with a nod. “Sorry about pressing the issue, but like I said, we need you.”

_Well, at least he had the decency to boost my ego after tearing it to ribbons._ Fairfire thought. “No problem, I suppose I’d rather have a concerned squadmate then an apathetic one.”

Ben didn’t say anything, only giving a short nod before continuing his warm-up routine.

_He really isn’t anything like I expected a Spartan to be like. _Fairfire thought._ Then again, I didn’t really know what to expect._

But as she walked through the hallway, that thought seeded itself in her mind for some reason, before roots of memory started taking shape and she started thinking. When Fairfire had been told she was commanding a Spartan, she hadn’t even bothered reading his file when it had been downloaded on her datapad. She knew enough from her position as an ODST that ONI loved to smother everything they touched in the same slimy black ink that coated their skin. One quick search through her datapad as she walked proved that had been quite a significant mistake.

_Oh my goodness, and here I thought reading paperwork was boring._ Fairfire thought with a grin as she glanced over page after page of only mildly censored text. She half-remembered a comment from Curie about having increased security clearance, but this was far in excess of what she had expected. Before she could get too absorbed in what she was reading she turned the pad off and put it away.

_First things first, talk to the damn shrink, then go read the Spartan’s diary._ Fairfire thought, now excited for the future.

**October 4th, 2343 Standard time, 2552**   
**UNSC Dominion**   
**Bridge**

The bridge of the Dominion was quiet but busy, as it usually was. Every officer’s station had at least one person working at it, but most of the stations had additional officers working on their tasks.

All of the bridge officers had demonstrated quite a large degree of competence in the last few days, to the point Richard was pleased with all of them. And while he had been told much about them when he was assigned to command the Dominion, it took personal experience to know just how well a crewmember was performing.

Bradford was an obvious godsend. The man had a mind that could process a massive amount of things simultaneously, and he did a grand job of making sure the whole crew was working on what needed to be done. His talent for logistics was also truly legendary, we had almost finished cataloguing the entire ship, in only a matter of days.

Ensign Williams was admittedly less than busy, given the Dominion’s steady orbit around Remnant leaving his role a helmsmen a bit irrelevant. But he was notably cheerful and eager to prove himself, an attitude that blended into the rest of the crew from time to time. He spent most of his time helping Lieutenant Chen with her increasingly hopeless efforts to find a way home. The two did seem to work well together however, demonstrating an impressive combined knowledge of astronomy. He did have a relationship with the ship’s Chief Medical Officer that had become something of an open secret aboard the ship. While it was technically against fraternization regulations, it was very apparent that neither of them let their work be affected. Richard didn’t see a need to crack down on them unless that changed.

Lieutenant Gage offered extensive experience, as he had served on the Dominion for over a decade, much longer than any of the other bridge officers. His shakiness was a cause for concern, but Richard had done his best to go easy on the man. His service record read more like a harrowing action novel than a record of the man’s deeds, and after reading it himself Richard was amazed the man hadn’t left the navy altogether. He did a very good job of keeping the weapons maintained and making sure that all systems were good to go, a precaution likely bred from paranoia.

Ensign Gillespie was a quiet man, one that Richard had a lot of trouble figuring out. He was always absorbed in his work, and did it quietly and efficiently. At first, Richard had thought it a bit oxymoronic to put a quiet man in charge of operations and communications, but Bradford had assured him that he was the man for the job. He had been proven right, as Ensign Gillespie did not allow his normally busy position to be a bottleneck for the rest of the crews productivity.

But while the bridge crew toiled away at their stations, ensuring the Dominion was in order. He was faced with a more complicated matter, the refit of the CCTS station on the ground. In truth, Richard didn’t have many expectations from the CCTS system as a whole, much less a single relay station. He’d done his fair share of months on remote ONI surveillance stations to know that it was probably poorly funded and understaffed. But when he read the Engineering Chief’s report on their mission, he had not expected it to be in such bad shape.

The first clue it was in bad shape was when Ensign Gillespie relayed a request for additional technicians and supplies from the ground. Reading the list of requests was worrying, as it asked for twice the men already sent, and enough communication and power generation equipment to construct a moderately sized SATCOM station, which were normally only established prior to extended campaigns, but the Dominion was equipped to establish at least two such stations, so Richard had approved the request. 

The second warning was when the lead technician on the ground sent a message to the Dominion via their Pelican’s radio warning that they had run into unexpected delays, and to not expect a stable connection until 1800. Unfortunately it took the team on the ground until 2030, and even then they had to leave a contingent of technicians behind to keep working on it, as well as a contingent of marines to act as guards for the valuable equipment and personnel. There were also plans to cycle them out with a separate team to continue working when the first group became exhausted.

The final warning was a mood of frustration from Ensign Gillespie, that only intensified as he continued to coordinate the operation from the Dominion. That mood slowly spread to Lieutenant Chen, and later Lieutenant Commander Bradford. Richard knew the look well, it was the same face he himself would make whenever he was prevented from doing his job by bureaucratic bullshit.

_Those two words are the biggest reason I left ONI._ He had thought.

Unfortunately, the report fell short of even his lowered expectations. Richard was appalled to learn that the relay station in Kuo Kuana was the only one on the entire continent, and even it experienced constant outages, leaving the whole continent effectively disconnected from the rest of the world except by hand-delivered messages. It became evident why when he read the whole station was manned by seven staff, all of whom were volunteers. Apparently the station was in a strange state of international deadlock where the station was owned by the Kingdom of Atlas, but Menagerie citizens were expected to staff it. However, they did not have access to what was essentially foreign soil, and as such they were forced to deal with the consequences.

_There’s negligence, and then there’s leaving a fifth of your planet's population with no communication to the outside world. Something tells me I’m going to hear a tall list of excuses for this from Atlas._ Richard thought bitterly, he did not want to deal with racial conflicts that had been obsolete for three centuries.

The equipment wasn’t in a better state. Apparently it was outdated even by Remnant’s lower than average standards, to the degree that many of the tertiary systems and what appeared to be surveillance equipment had been mothballed for years. The extra equipment requested had been to simply replace the existing Atlesian equipment, which was barely worth its weight in scrap. The Atlesian Staff had offered up the equipment as payment, which Richard had begrudingly accepted. The thing that worried Richard so much is that Ghira had called all of this a “minor” problem, something he hoped wasn’t foreshadowing on the rest of humanity’s situation across Remnant.

_And apparently Atlas is the most advanced nation on Remnant, where does that leave everyone else? Hopefully with less political posturing that hurts innocent people. _Richard thought._ No matter, we're here now, so we can do something about it._

But the end of the report did provide the good news he was hoping for. The communications systems were compatible with only a moderate amount of modifications, mostly on the software front. He was rather pleasantly surprised to read that apparently the CCTS was more similar to Waypoint or the old world wide web back before space travel became commonplace. It would provide an opportunity to learn more about the people of Remnant, as well as other, more strategic possibilities.

“Curie, do you have a moment?” Richard asked, before Curie appeared on the holotable next to his chair, enhancing the faint blue glow that always filled the bridge.

“I am more than capable, how can I assist?” she asked.

“Are the systems of the CCTS compatible enough that you can access them?” Richard asked.

Curie thought for a moment before answering. “The infrastructure is far too primitive for any A.I to move through, much less a third generation Smart A.I. However, I do have a proposal.”

“Go on.” Richard said.

“I could use a proxy system by browsing the source code of any information uploaded to the CCTS or wherever in which it is stored, using the Dominion as an interface.” Curie explained. “This would render most of my specialized intrusion software unfortunately ineffective, but I would still be able to access anything with a stable connection from here.”

“Why wouldn’t your intrusion software work?” Richard asked, his knowledge of computer systems had never been the greatest.

“A portion of it would, I shall explain.” Curie said. “Several of my more specialized software packages were designed for Covenant infrastructure. As you might expect, those are completely different from the CCTS. Traditional intrusion methods will have to prove sufficient, however I am well equipped in that regard as well.”

“Good to know.” Richard said. “On that note, is the connection to the Dominion stable enough that you can access it right now?”

"I would need to divert a small amount of power to boost our signal slightly for the primary communications dish, but it is a negligible amount." Curie explained.

"Do it." Richard said with little hesitation.

“Give me one moment.” Curie said as her digital facial expression shifted to one of deep thought. “I should share a brief word of caution, this system is unfortunately unrefined as a result of having been made as I go along. I anticipate a 35.5% slower processing rate until I can clean this up at a later date.”

“Well as long as we can connect, we’re better off than we were.” Richard said. 

Curie’s holographic face was full of deep thought until she suddenly switched her expression to one of satisfaction. “It is done, stable contact has been established. As an added bonus, I’ve refined our cybersecurity defenses to increase their efficiency by 162%.”

“That’s... quite a lot.” Richard commented.

“It is not nearly as impressive as it sounds, but it does offer some peace of mind, does it not?” Curie asked rehtorically. “Now that I have access, is there anything specific I am looking for?”

“We need to contact the leadership of the Kingdom of Atlas, as well as this Schnee Dust Company.” Richard said. “We’ll start with Atlas, as we should avoid making enemies with them first.”

“I will begin searching. Thankfully there is some existing software here that can help with that.” Curie said, before continuing several seconds later. “Ok, I have some basic information on all 51, wait sorry, 50 of the elected council members.”

“What about their King?” Richard asked.

“There is none.” Curie explained. “It would appear that monarchies have not existed for several decades outside of several unrecognized city states. All of those appear to have been destroyed by Grimm, save a few unconfirmed instances.”

“Why is it called a kingdom then?” Richard asked, confused. “I assumed it was like some of the old Earth nations, were the monarch held minimal power, but still existed.”

“Your guess is as good as mine, it is a mildly irritating misnomer is it not?” Curie asked. “Instead, it appears to be a rather basic form of republic. Interestingly it appears as if they have no singular position of executive power, similar to the UEG.”

“Do they have established diplomats we can contact?” Richard asked.

“It would appear that they do, but they also seem to serve a largely ceremonial role.” Curie said. “It is worth noting that I am unintentionally piercing several layers of cybersecurity in my search for this information. If you would like me to take more diligent care in respecting their boundaries-”

Richard held his hand up, stopping her. “One of my men is in cold storage Curie. We’ll respect their privacy once we’ve averted a diplomatic crisis.” 

“I am glad we are in agreement. It’s also worth noting the various instances of criminal activity I’ve discovered taking place on the system. It would appear that electronic surveillance is rather limited here.” Curie noted.

“What about finding who we need to contact? We can go searching for faults in their network later.” Richard said, trying to get them back on track.

“You are correct, and I believe I have found a good candidate. His name is General Jameson Ironwood.” Curie said before her hologram disappeared, before being replaced with a well-kept man in an unusually formal military dress. “He holds reasonable influence in the Atlesian military, as well as holding two seats on the Atlesian council through a position as Headmaster at what appears to be a prestigious university, as well as another in which he was elected.”

“He certainly sounds like a busy man.” Richard said. “You think he’s our best bet at a friendly representative?”

“I believe he is the most likely candidate. He does have a history of nationalistic policies, but for the most part, he’s received ample praise from his comrades and the press alike. He seems to be heralded as a brilliant and reasonable leader.” Curie answered as her hologram returned.

“Very well, can you patch us through?” Richard asked.

Curie went silent for a moment before answering. “Perhaps, I would need more time, there is a lot of software that I would need to translate first. I’d need to find a way to contact him directly.”

“Make it happen.” Richard said. “And see if we can’t find a means to communicate through which he wouldn’t think we’re a bunch of technically savvy hooligans trying to prank him.”

“I can patch a video line through one of the cameras on the bridge, what better way to show we are who we say they are then to simply show him the view?” Curie asked, gesturing at the bridge’s window into space before her.

“Good thinking, let me know when it’s done.” Richard said before Curie’s hologram disappeared as she diverted her attention towards her new task.

_I should see about doing some research of my own._ Richard thought as he reached for his datapad.

Authors note: This chapter is due for a touching up, it's by no means bad, but it just needs to be cleaned up a little.


	16. Chapter 16

**October 5th, 0542 Standard Time, 2552**   
**UNSC Dominion**   
**Bridge**

To Curie, the Dominion wasn’t nearly as vast as it was to the rest of her crew. Moving between its various subsystems and terminals was made easy by the links that bound the vessel’s systems together. Her only obstacle was the ship’s cybersecurity suite, which she could quickly traverse as well. The immense processing power held by the ship also offered her some assistance in running through her tasks. To her, it was like operating a well-tuned machine, with intuitive and simple controls.

The ship had various programs dedicated to monitoring the ship’s functions and alerting the crew if something was broken, meaning she was mostly free to her own devices whenever she wasn’t actively working on something. She spent most of her time monitoring the crew through the ship’s various cameras, as well as talking with them. Most of the crew were quite friendly, although some of them were quite standoffish at times. She had actually mastered the art of splitting her processing power between various terminals and holotanks at once, allowing her to effectively have several conversations with multiple people at once. 

She also kept an eye on the ship’s Elite prisoner, and made a note that he was writing something with the pens and paper he had been allowed to have. He was something of an enigma to her, so unlike his brethern, but yet the similarities were apparent when he spoke.

But ever since the Dominion had been connected to the CCTS, she had spent a considerable amount of effort on scouring the various “pages”. She ruthlessly consumed any information she could find, processing and categorizing it for later usage. Most of the Dominion’s crew had joined her, using their own devices to browse what the CCTS had to offer and learning about their rather unusual metaphorical cousins. And while their civilization was eerily similar, in spite of the seeming lack of contact with Earth-based society, it did have it’s fair share of oddities.

But most of her effort was concentrated on cracking the matter of vocal communications. The security programs the Atlesian engineers had put in place were laughable, to the point where she could brute force her way past almost any firewall with a fraction of her own processing power. But the software regarding basic radio communications was dramatically different from the rest of the system. The bulk of the system relied on four “primary” relay towers, as well as a far larger number of “secondary” relay towers. The secondary towers seemed to serve mainly to boost signals and redirect laser-based data uplinks.

The problem she faced rested itself in her proxy system that she had so far used to operate the CCTS, it presented extreme difficulties with understanding the basic code language the software was made with. After running a brief simulation, she discovered it would simply be easier to freshly make a sort of “back door” in the CCTS that she could access it normally from, in essence making a translation kit for the CCTS software. Unfortunately that meant a substantial delay as she was converting all of the Atlesian code langauge into understandable terms. It took her nearly eight hours to finish the software, but when she was done she had created a tool with which she could effortlessly move through and manipulate the CCTS, with a far greater degree of efficiency.

Within several milliseconds she accomplished that which had been bothering her for the previous eight hours. After plugging in the contact information she’d previously acquired elsewhere, she now had a line of communication directly to Atlas Academy. The system was also extremely simple to operate and adapt, even to ordinary humans.

In a stroke of luck, the Commander had just woken up, and after a few minutes of waiting, he arrived on the bridge. With his arrival, Curie displayed her hologram. She did greatly enjoy her digital persona, even if she had an annoying habit of changing color during moments of intense emotion.

“Good morning monsieur, did you sleep well?” Curie asked, noting his higher than average blood pressure. It was well within healthy levels, but she would keep an eye on him.

“Good enough, although I do wish we packed some different coffee brands before we left.” Richard said as he adjusted his officer’s cap. “Have there been any developments with our objectives?”

Curie double checked her reports before speaking, something that took her less than a split second. “Indeed there have. Our technicians working on the Cross Continental Transmit System have stabilized our connection. We have also reopened communications for Menagerie citizens, they should be able to use the system.”

“Good to hear. Although I assume that means our presence has been made public?” Richard assumed.

“In a manner of speaking.” Curie said. “At the moment, our presence is generally considered a rumor amongst the average citizens of the other Kingdoms. The exception to this is the city of Kuo Kuana, whose average citizen has been made aware of our arrival. Panic seems minimal outside for a few outlying incidents, and we’ve accidentally caused a surge in conspiracy theories.”

Richard gave a brief chuckle at her final statement. “I probably should have warned Ghira about that.”

Curie nodded. “On that note, Chieftain Belladonna has declined to make an official comment, as well as sending a message requesting permission to announce that you indeed do exist to his citizens, and that diplomatic talks are underway.”

“Give him our approval, and remind him that we have no hostile intentions.” Richard said. “But inform him not to address the current crisis with the SDC, we don't want to antagonize them any further.”

Curie quickly assembled a brief message relaying what Richard had said before beaming it to the Belladonna's official mailbox. “There have been other developments. In order to gain better access to the CCTS, I created a software translation kit that allows me to move through it normally. Using this, I was able to ensure we can now use the Dominion’s communication systems to contact anyone connected to the CCTS.”

“Can we contact General Ironwood?” Richard asked.

“Oui, at any time.” Curie answered. “Would you like to review first-contact guidelines beforehand?”

“I already did that when we went down to Menagerie... but I suppose it couldn’t hurt.” Richard sighed, knowing the dry documents would do little but dull his senses. “Send them to my datapad, as well as anything you can find on the General.”

“Of course, I have already compiled a number of dossiers on individuals of interest..” Curie said. “Politicians, scientists, as well as anyone of importance to the SDC.” There was a momentary pause. “They have been sent to your datapad.” Richard checked to make sure it had been sent before continuing. “General Ironwood was the next one on my list, his report will only take a moment.” 

Curie began a search of all of the information she had collected for anything mentioning the General or his occupation. She was quickly surprised to see that the vast majority of it focused on his role as the Headmaster of Atlas Academy, and not his military career.

_Curious, perhaps it is an officer’s academy? He certainly doesn't seem to have any scientific or educational qualifications._ Curie thought. A coursey examination revealed the academy indeed trained some sort of international special forces called “Huntsmen” with the main goal of combatting Grimm. As well as a secondary goal of assisting law enforcement in dangerous situations.

_I will make a note of that, I would like to review how they perform._ Curie thought before starting a download of the School’s archives.

He also had something of a media presence, and was fairly popular in the public eye. But the man was not without his critics, namely those decrying his support of the Schnee Dust Company, as well as usage of excessive force against certain terrorist organizations, although other, less universal complaints existed. Some claimed that he was using his position for personal gain, while others outright called him a tyrant, citing his two seats on the Council.

Curie forwarded everything she found to Richard’s datapad. After several minutes of reading, he put the pad away and turned his attention out the front window of the Bridge, watching as Remnant slowly rotated before him.

“Before we commit to this, what time is it in Atlas?” Richard asked.

“0450.” Curie recited. “Although it appears that General Ironwood has been awake for some time.”

“Well then let’s not delay any further, patch us through.” Richard ordered.

“Aye sir.” Curie said, making an effort to use the proper terminology. “I will route control to your datapad.”

**The Dominion**   
**Bridge**

It wasn’t lost on Richard the importance of the upcoming meeting. Improperly handling this first contact could set one of the most powerful nations on Remnant against them, and avoiding a conflict was his top priority. His meeting with Ghira offered him an idea of what to expect and the UNSC’s first contact protocols for an alien civilization offered some other bits of advice he could fall back on.

Despite the near silence of the bridge, it was apparent he could feel the sense of silent encouragement of his fellow officers. Whether it was from a sense of camaraderie or simply a desire to get home faster, it was appreciated nonetheless.

Only a few seconds after Curie was finished speaking, a new set of controls appeared on his datapad. Without delay he made a series of commands to begin the call.

“It’s going to take a few seconds, I am still making sure that nothing gets in the way here.” Curie said. Several seconds passed, and just as Curie said, the call worked. The fact that his datapad didn’t change its screen gave the impression the video connection didn’t work.

“This is Headmaster Ironwood’s office, who am I speaking with?” The man asked. His voice sounded drab, tired, and oddly smooth despite the electronic tone. Curie gave Richard a nod, confirming he could speak back.

“Good morning General, my name is Commander Richard Miller.” Richard spoke, doing his best to speak clearly above all else. “I’m calling in regard to an incident that took place between our nations three days ago, but I believe we have a more important matter to discuss first.”

Richard could swear he heard a barely audible suppressed yawn coming from Ironwood’s end before he spoke again. “My apologies, it’s a bit early in the morning as you’re no doubt aware. Which Kingdom do you represent?”

Moment of truth. Richard thought. “I represent United Nations Space Command. Just so there’s no misunderstandings, no, we are not from Remnant.”

Ironwood laughed, it sounded less genuine and more like a gesture of politeness. “Very funny. Although it’s good to know my secretary isn’t above helping with a few practical jokes.”

Curie gave a confused look at that, before suddenly getting a look of understanding.

“I assure you General, I am very serious.” Richard insisted. “Curie, can you get us a video connection?”

“I am doing my best, although it appears that the General’s device isn’t equipped with a compatible camera.” Curie said.

“Now I do appreciate the good hearted gesture, but I’m a busy man, and I need to get back to work. Have a good day.” Ironwood said, before hanging up.

“Transmission ended Sir.” Curie reported. “What now?”

Richard had honestly expected that, thankfully he had a backup plan.

“Do you still have access to his office’s power systems?” he asked, his more devious thinking showing itself.

“I have the ability to manipulate the cities entire power grid.” Curie confirmed. “Which reminds me, there’s something you should know about Atlas itself, once we are done with this.”

“It will have to wait.” Richard said. “Kill the lights, just his office.”

“Aye Sir, done.” Curie said. “The camera shows he’s a bit confused, from what I can tell anyway, it dosen't have night vision.”

“What else is in his office? Is there anything that could get us a video connection?” Richard asked, thinking more practically now that the General was distracted.

“His desk appears to have a built-in communications suite, which includes a compatible camera.” Curie reported..

“Hail it from the Dominion, then force the system to accept the transmission from their end.” Richard ordered. “And turn his lights back on.”

“Aye, sir... done. Link established, putting it up onscreen now.” Curie said.

The screen in front of Richard’s command chair shimmered, before suddenly flashing and revealing the face of a very confused General Ironwood.

“Hello again General, but I’m afraid we weren’t done speaking.” Richard said, doing his best to stare directly into Ironwood’s eyes. The video feed revealed he was still sharply dressed, despite his exhausted appearance. He very quickly realized the serious implications behind what had just happened, and straightened his posture, as well as adopting a more sour facial expression.

“Alright... Commander, you have my attention.” The General spoke, keeping his face strictly neutral.

“Whether you believe we’re aliens or not, it’s true. We come from another planet, and three days ago we attempted to make first contact, and we were met with hostility.” Richard said, keeping his own tone neutral. "We have no intentions of-"

“Just because you have impressive cyber-warfare doesn't mean I believe your claims. Although you do present a serious threat to Atlesian national security.” Ironwood stated, his voice deepening into a more sour tone. “You recognize the seriousness of your actions, don’t you?”

“One of my men was killed, General. One of your citizens was the culprit.” Richard said, not backing down. “If we’re discussing serious actions, I certainly hold the belief that your actions prove substantially moreso.”

“Accusation of murder is a serious claim to make, especially with no backing that you’re even who you say you are.” Ironwood pointed out.

“Well then, by all means, allow me to present example one, the bridge of my starship.” Richard said gesturing towards the room around him, the other people, and the terminals. “This is a whole lot of effort to put into a “practical joke” isn’t it? The uniforms, the terminals, as well as the fact that we are in orbit in the first place!”

“This stopped being a joke when you started toying with Atlesian security.” Ironwood retorted. “As for your ship, I’ve yet to see more beyond one room. You could be in a studio for all I know.”

“Then by all means, have a look.” Richard said. “Curie, launch one of our Clarion spy drones.”

“Aye Sir, the drone is away.” Curie reported after a moment. A dull thud reverberated throughout the hull of the ship.

“And swap General Ironwood’s feed to one of our forward bow cameras. Let the man look at his own planet from our perspective.” Richard said, well aware that Ironwood had not stopped listening.

“Camera feed switching, drone is coming about to match our orbit. It will fly formation with us around 230 meters off our starboard hull.” Curie said.

Ironwood’s facial expression changed slightly when he saw his own planet. It was one less of sour determination and more one of surprise. Nevertheless, he persisted with his skepticism.

“That could be a computer-generated model. You're not the only one who knows the potential of modern technology.” Ironwood protested. “I have no guarantee it comes from an actual starship.”

“Very well, show him our ship Curie.” Richard ordered.

Ironwood’s feed shifted again, this time to one of the cameras on the Clarion spy drone they had launched. Curie also displayed the feed he was seeing on another monitor on the Dominion’s bridge, and Richard couldn’t help but admire Curie’s cinematography. Obviously he would expect the ship under his command to look good, but she did a damn good job making it look even better. She did a grand job with the lighting from Remnant's star, getting a good angle so that her nameplate was visible.

Again Ironwood’s expression slightly faltered, but he retained his defiant posture. “That looks like footage from a sci-fi movie! You’ll have to do better than that.”

Richard was starting to get frustrated, a degree of disbelief and stubbornness was understandable and expected. But at some point, the General shifted towards being unreasonable.

“Alright General, let me try appealing to logic. What possible reason would he have to lie to you?” Richard asked. "Take a moment to think about this from my perspective, even if you don't believe me."

The general thought for a moment before answering. “I couldn’t honestly say off the top of my head, but you could be attempting a form of deception. You yourself claim that one of your men were killed in a conflict with Atlas, that frankly, I doubt ever happened.”

“Is that right?” Richard scowled. “Curie, how many casualties did we inflict on the SDC forces we encountered?”

Ironwood’s expression shifted to a sharper scowl when he heard that, but remained silent.

“At least 18, of which I predict around 10 were killed.” Curie said. “Keep in mind, that is a very rough estimate.”

“On the contrary Commander, for the first time in this conversation, that sounds just about right.” Ironwood narrowly said. “I received a very angry call from the CEO of the Schnee Dust Company, claiming that several of his security staff were unjustifiably attacked by unknown forces that escaped on an airship.”

“Unprovoked?” Richard asked, perhaps a bit more indignantly than he had intended. “He tried to arrest my entire force after they defused several improvised explosive devices that could have killed any one of them! And while we may have fired the first shot, we were certainly not unprovoked!”

“That doesn't line up with what I’ve been told.” Ironwood said in an accusatory manner. 

“Then maybe you were lied to General.” Richard retorted. “We have video logs from the helmet cameras of everyone involved, I’ve seen them myself. I’d suspect this man cannot back his own nonsense claims.”

“I would be quite interested in seeing that.” Ironwood said, less coldly than his previous statements, but still with a sense of challenge. “I will concede that I didn’t receive any evidence of the battle other images of the battleground and those killed. And I did find it odd that both of their cameras in the battle had malfunctioned...”

“Curie, send him the footage.” Richard ordered.

“His storage device can’t hold it all Sir.” Curie said. Richard noted Ironwood look at her holographic form with an expression of curiosity for the first time.

“Then we’ll view it live, play him the footage from Sergeant Benjamin’s helmet camera, start from the point of contact.” Richard said.

“Aye sir, playing it now.” Curie said.

Richard watched the footage with Ironwood, explaining the various actions taken by his forces and why the mission had been undertaken in the first place. When it was all said and done Ironwood’s defiant expression was gone, replaced with a look of grim acceptance.

“It seems like this is an instance of bad communication...” Ironwood began.

“Their leader threatened to gun down my squad while they were attempting to answer the question that he himself asked.” Richard said unforgivingly. “And I think you’ve seen more than enough evidence that our claims are valid.”

Ironwood sighed, now realizing he was on the defensive in this situation. “I feel the need to mention that the Schnee Dust Company and it’s private security force, do not represent the Kingdom of Atlas or its interests.” 

“I don’t want a war, General.” Richard reassured. “As a matter of fact that’s just about the worst possible thing that could come from this.”

“I’m certainly glad you agree.” Ironwood said. Richard noted his shift in posture and expression towards a far more regal and professional appearance.

_You don’t see that kind of posture outside of an ONI operative, or someone who takes presentation very seriously._ Richard thought before speaking. “I intend to speak with the man known as Jacques Schnee directly. However, I decided to contact a member of the Atlesian government first. After some deliberation you were selected, and I authorized a software intrusion to secure safe contact.”

“About that.” Ironwood said. “Under the circumstances I would and will argue your intrusion was justified, as it prevented another incident. But I would advise against committing cyber-attacks against both us or our allies in the future, we are obligated to respond accordingly.”

“That is certainly reasonable.” Richard said, knowing very well there wasn’t much Atlas could do to them in a military or even strategic sense. “I certainly have more to discuss with you and your government, however, I would like to see this crisis resolved before then. With that in mind, I do have a list of demands for this SDC, which will involve your nation.”

At first, Ironwood’s facial expression swapped to one of anger and frustration, but it very quickly swapped to one of deeper thought. “I recognize you have little reason to trust me, but I do have a suggestion. Whatever your demands are, I would advise letting either myself or someone else from the Atlesian government deliver them. I know Jacques personally, and he’s a stubborn man.”

Richard thought, but quickly realized he would need more time to come to a conclusion. “I will take it under consideration. In the meantime, we have some other, less important matters to discuss.”

Over the next half hour Ironwood and Richard discussed many things. Ironwood quickly made it apparent he couldn’t take substantial government action on his own, explaining he would have to take most of Richard’s offers to the rest of the council to be voted on. It was interesting to see just how much power was placed in the council, even diplomatic decisions required a vote.

_A singular branch of government, responsible for all of that? That has the potential to go poorly._ Richard thought.

Despite his lack of individual power in the government, his position in the military allowed the two of them to at least agree on a temporary truce. Ironwood also assisted him and Curie with getting a more official position on the CCTS, and formalized a line of communication between the Council and the Dominion.

Finally, they reached an agreement with how to deliver the UNSC’s demands. Ironwood would deliver them personally, but would go to the Atlesian council first, before speaking with Jacques.

Richard had kept them intentionally short, only demanding funeral costs to be covered for Private Wilson, as well as the medical costs for Sergeant Meadows. All of the expenses were to be paid directly by the Schnee Dust Corporation in Remnant’s currency. He was far more worried about his demand to conduct international trials against the surviving security staff. 

His decision was rooted in the realization that a trial hosted by either UNSC or Atlas courts would be pointless and infeasible, especially given that the UNSC currently didn’t have access to any sort of legal staff. He wagered an internationally held trial in a different nation would be more likely to be accepted while still offering a fair trial for the accused.

_All the while we’ll be quietly watching. A good chance to see if we can trust Ironwood, as well as Atlas as a whole._ Richard thought.

“There, I have them.” Ironwood said as he finished receiving the list of demands. “I can’t honestly say how they’ll be viewed by the council, or even myself once I read them, but I can make sure that at the least they’re delivered.”

“Thank you for your cooperation General.” Richard said. “I do hope that in the future we can have future meetings under less bleak circumstances.”

“Likewise Commander.” Ironwood said with a nod. “Is that all?”

“For now.” Richard said. “Best of luck General.”

He gave a small hand gesture towards Curie, signaling to cut the signal, which she did.

“I believe that went fairly well, despite our rough start.” Curie commented.

“Indeed, all we can do now is wait and watch.” Richard said. “In the meantime, we should consider making our presence to the rest of Remnant’s population known.”

“Do you have an idea about how we do that?” Curie asked.

“None that are good, but I do have an idea of who might.” Richard said, already thinking.

“I am afraid I do not understand.” Curie admitted.

“On this entire ship, only one man has any substantial experience in public relations.” Richard said. “Agent Thomas may be a part of ONI’s Section 3, but his file lists him as being part of Section 2 for a decent amount of time.”

ONI’s Section 2 was the branch of ONI directly responsible for public relations with the citizens of the UEG, and by extension, propaganda. Richard didn’t know what kind of experience Thomas had, but it was certainly more substantial than his, as he had been part of the far more notorious Section 3.

“Shall I alert him to come to the bridge when he is next available?” Curie asked.

“Yes.” Richard said. “Wait, what is he doing anyway?”

“He and Sergeant Benjamin are attempting to make further progress with getting the Covenant prisoner to cooperate.” Curie said. “Their progress is... mixed.”

“They’re not hurting him, are they?” Richard asked, mildly worried with her hesitation. Less for the elite's health, and more for the mental status of his men.

“No.” Curie said. “On the contrary Sir, they’ve taken to discussing philosophy, well, Benjamin and Set have anyway.”

“They... wait, what?” Richard asked, his question falling apart mid sentence. “Nevermind, just let me know when he’s done. And get me Lieutenant Commander Bradford as well, I have an assignment for him.”

“Aye Sir.” Curie said, but Richard stopped her before she could dissolve her hologram

“One last thing, you said there was something about Atlas that needed mentioning, what was it?” Richard asked.

“Ah yes, Atlas.” Curie said, with a rare tone of contempt. “Atlas is a floating city, propelled by a series of antigravity devices that are beyond my understanding. It presents a series strategic hazard, and I have attached images so that you may see for yourself.”

Richard sighed, accepting the impossible as the truth. “Thank you Curie, that will be all.”

As Curie’s hologram disappeared, he looked back at his datapad, and quickly brought up an image of Atlas, which looked just as ridiculous as he expected.

_Even in this mess of a situation, I still see the craziest things. _Richard thought._ This place is going to be one hell of a tourist trap once we get word back home._


	17. Chapter 17

**The UNSC Dominion**   
**Brig**   
**October 5th, 0612 Standard Time, 2552**

When Agent Thomas requested further assistance in interrogating Set, Ben had accepted not only because it was expected of him, but because he also wanted to learn more about the Elite. His first encounter with the alien had been far different from what he had been trained to expect, and not just because of the circumstances.

Covenant prisoners were surprisingly rare, largely due to the fact that most Covenant forces of any species would fight to the death or commit suicide rather than be captured. Ben had been shown during his training various instances in which Covenant forces would fight, almost always without weapons, to a point where the humans trying to capture them were forced to kill them in order to avoid being killed themselves.

This seemed to be especially true for the Elites. Their ferocity and zeal were by far the smartest of all of the species in the Covenant, at least those that the UNSC had any substantial information on. This proved problematic as they were the only ones with any substantial strategic value who were even able to be captured. This presented an almost insurmountable problem for ONI throughout the whole war, as finding out more about the Covenants plans or even their civilization was extremely difficult.

Set proved an interesting exception to this otherwise unblemished pattern. Agent Thomas had shared the log of his capture, hoping that Ben would be able to help explain the confusing event, but all that really happened was that the confusion spread to Ben.

The footage was taken from the helmet camera of an Army soldier during the Campaign on Reach. The trooper was with his squad in some sort of ship graveyard when he rounded a corner and found the site of a particularly gruesome battle. Littering the ground was the corpses and blood of dozens of Elites and Brutes.

That was where things got strange, the bodies were very obviously victims of plasma fire, with one of the Brutes even having been bisected by what must have been an energy sword. It was readily apparent the two races had fought each other, but even the trooper who was observing it didn’t seem to know why, as evidenced by their exclamations of shock and confusion.

An Elite in the armor of an Ultra was visible, with the more practically armored variant of the helmet, and not the larger more ornamental one. As the trooper’s squadmates arrived the Elite, whom Ben guessed was Set, looked at them with an indescribable expression.

The two had a silent standoff for a brief moment, during which Ben was surprised one of the Army troopers hadn’t opened fire. But as it turned out, their hesitation proved valuable, as Set simply dropped his plasma repeater and raised his hands.

He gave a brief chuckle. “Very well humans, you win.” He had said before the bewildered Army soldiers handcuffed him and took him prisoner.

And today, as Ben approached Agent Thomas outside of Set’s cell, he felt a similar sense of confusion. He’d expected the Elite had been roughly brought down by exhaustion or overwhelmed and disarmed, not that he had given up so... willingly.

_He has to have had a reason, a motive, he’s planning something._ He thought.

“Good morning Spartan, ready to begin?” Thomas asked, not turning his head away from the Elite, who was sitting on his cot, writing something on the paper and pens he had been given, his abnormal hands not stopping him from holding them correctly. It seemed at some point someone had upgraded his clothing to an especially large white bathrobe and an especially large pair of shorts.

“Yes Sir, what’s our focus today?” Ben asked, trying to figure out what Set was doing but to no avail.

“We have two.” Thomas began. “Our first question is something we already know that I’ve been seeking to authenticate, we want to know the Covenant’s motivations for why they began the war.”

That made sense, the Covenant’s motivations were vague, to say the least. With the exception of the extermination of humanity, they seemed very set in stone about that one.

“And the other?” Ben asked.

“I want to know why he gave up.” Thomas stated. "It just doesn't make sense, knowing what we know."

“I’ve been wondering that myself Sir.” Ben said. “He’s got to have some reason.”

“Well, we might as well try asking.” Thomas said, his stony expression unchanging. “Go ahead, I’ll let you handle it. He seems to answer to you better anyway.”

Ben gave a nod and opened the cell door before walking in, ensuring it was sealed properly. Set looked up from what he was writing and gave what Ben assumed was some kind of grin or scowl, Sangehelli expressions were hard to read.

“I was beginning to wonder if you had all forgotten me, other then the one who brings the human food.” Set said in a grumpy tone. He placed his notepad on the bed next to him, which Ben gave a quick glance before returning his attention to Set.

“You don’t need to worry about being forgotten.” Ben said, trying to inflate the Elite’s ego in an effort to make him more cooperative. “You’ve made quite the impression you know.”

“I had heard as much. The humans speak softly but enough whispers and eventually everyone will hear it.” Set said with the smirk from earlier returning. “So, what invariably stupid question did the Fat One say to ask?”

_Fat? Wait, Thomas._ Ben thought, even though the man wasn’t obese, Set had made his opinion on him very clear.

“We were curious about the war as a whole, how it started on the Covenant side of things.” Ben said.

“You mean, why it started?” Set asked, obviously confused.

“In a sense, yes.” Ben confirmed.

“I would have figured you knew that already. But I suppose the Prophet’s speeches can get a bit long-winded at times, so I understand how the meaning could be lost.” Set said.

_Even the Prophets aren’t above scrutiny in Set’s eyes. _Ben thought._ Or perhaps petty insults are just part of his dialect, even for those whom he respects._

“The Hierarchs determined that your species was not worthy of living, that your very existence was an affront to the gods.” Set explained. “That was all the reason given, it was the only reason needed.”

“The Hierarchs, they seem to be behind a lot of the big decisions in the Covenant.” Ben stated.

Set huffed with amusement. “Brilliant observation demon, next you’ll tell me that I have twice the thumbs you do.” There was a moment of silence before he spoke once more. “But you are correct.”

“In my defense, most of your buddies would rather shoot me then discuss the intricacies of governmental structure.” Ben countered, doing his best to avoid being outwardly antagonistic. “You said earlier that their the same as what we call the Prophets?”

“Not entirely.” Set answered. “You seem to use the word “prophet” to describe their species, which isn’t entirely wrong. When the Covenant was formed between the San’Shyuum and the Sangheili many ages ago, it was decided that the San’Shyuum would handle religious and governmental matters. You see, while they won, they recognized our prowess in battle”

Ben nodded in faint agreement. “So Hierarch isn’t a race, it’s a title?”

“Correct. The Hierarchs, or the High Prophets, hold the highest seat in the Covenant. They speak with the oracle, which the gods left us to complete the Great Journey.” Set explained. “Their word is law, and they share their importance only with the Gods themselves.”

“You seem rather forthcoming with that information.” Ben noted.

“That is because it is all that I will tell you on the matter.” Set pointed out. “What I have told you is common knowledge among even the lowliest Unggoy in the Covenant. The knowledge is likely already known to your species.”

“That makes far more sense.” Ben said. “But that leads me on to my next question.”

“Ask away Demon, but I cannot guarantee an answer.” Set said with a smug expression. “Though I expect the same courtesy in return, when I finally decide to ask you questions.”

“Why are you here?” Ben asked, noting what he had said for later. “Why surrender?”

“Why not?” Set asked, gesturing at himself “I’m still alive aren’t I?”

“Because you’re entire civilization is fanatical.” Ben pointed out. “Elites don’t surrender, those we’ve captured either killed themselves or died trying to kill their captors.”

Set thought for a moment before speaking. “Did you ever consider I’m thinking in a more long-term fashion? That my superiors would rather me be here, rather than dead?”

“In a cell, in the middle of nowhere on some lost warship?” Ben asked.

“Perhaps not that last part, but that was hardly my fault now was it?” Set pointed out. “You see things as humans versus The Covenant, but in reality, it’s far more complicated than that.”

“What do you mean?” Ben asked , not following what he was saying.

Set sighed. “The Covenant has its weaknesses, it may be mighty, it may be holy...but it has its faults.”

Ben stayed silent and listened, this was definitely interesting.

“Politics.” Set simply stated. “From what I’ve heard during my infiltration missions, you suffer from something that has plagued the Covenant since the very beginning, petty bickering like Unggoy fighting over the teat.”

Ben didn’t quite understand that exact wording of Set’s comment, but the meaning was understood wholeheartedly, infighting proved problematic. And with the insurrection and a long line of historical wars on humanity's side, Ben was more than inclined to agree.

“The specifics of those conflicts are beyond what I can say.” Set said. “Tell me, do you know how I was found by your soldiers?”

Ben nodded. “I saw the footage, and the bodies. We know the Elites and the Brutes had a rivalry, but we hadn’t assumed it could turn violent.”

“Then you underestimate their stupidity and brashness, and you underestimate the foolishness of the Prophets on this matter for trusting them.” Set proclaimed. “The Prophets may be holy, but they have time and again proven themselves to be prone to mistakes. and the Jiralhanae, the Brutes, are one of those mistakes.”

_Interservice rivalry, but on a racial scale. _Ben realized._ It’s not just the military, it’s their very position in the Covenant._

“So what’s that mean for you?” Ben asked. “And what were you doing in that mess on Reach?”

“That, Demon, I cannot tell you.” Set said. “But when I surrendered, it was not because I lack the will to kill you, but because the information I carry is more valuable than my honor. I must return to give my message to my Superiors no matter what I must do.”

_That’s too valuable an opportunity not to take._ Ben thought, before allowing the Elite to shift the topic.

“Honor.” Ben stated, pointing at the Elite. “You say that word a lot, but I’m not sure we’re talking about the same thing.”

“Perhaps we aren’t, my point still stands.” Set argued. “You claim humanity has honor, but I fail to see it.”

“That wasn’t my point.” Ben countered. “You claim that you yourself have honor, but claim humanity has none. When by the same standard, you should have none.”

Set growled. “Speak more Demon, I wish to hear what foul pollutants rest in your skull.”

Ben smirked, his strategy was working.

“Where’s the honor in killing civilians? Where’s the honor in glassing planets?” Ben asked. “There is nothing gained from that but disgrace for your whole military.”

Set snarled. “That’s what you’ll stand by? Humanity itself is guilty of that are they not?”

“But that’s where the difference comes into play.” Ben said. “You sit on your pedestal, claiming your honor is unmarked and clean, but you are no different from us.”

Set roared as he stood up to face Ben face to face, he did not back down. “You are but an insect, you may be a warrior, but that does not change what you are under all that armor.”

Ben nodded. “And I’m not going to deny it. I don’t fight for honor, none of us do.”

“Then why do you insist on being so stubborn?!” Set furiously asked. “If you admit to being honorless, why even bother fighting?!”

“Because you started this war, and you have no intentions of stopping it.” Ben answered, being careful not to change his tone in the slightest. “And if we’re so different, you tell me, why take the word of an insect? I think that’s pretty rich coming from the guy with four more mandibles then I have.”

Set opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself, before very suddenly changing his tone and expression. “I see what you are trying to do Demon, you attempt to fool me into anger with your petty trickery, but why?”

Ben was surprised, he hadn’t expected the Elite to catch on. “Because maybe you’ll see my point, that you aren’t all that different from us. After all, didn’t you do that same thing with Agent Thomas?”

The Elite thought deeply for a moment before laughing with the realization of the irony, Ben ignored his laughter and kept speaking.

“Your mistake is viewing something as either having honor, or not having it.” Ben stated. “That’s not how humans work, and I’m willing to bet that’s not how Sangheili work either, we're more complicated than that.”

Set stopped laughing as he took a deep breath and looked at Ben with a curious look. “That’s unusually thoughtful, I was told Demons were a far more simple threat. Automatons designed to kill and nothing more.”

“We have a habit of defying expectations.” Ben said, knowing that his Spartan 2 forerunners proved that point well enough.

Set gave a huff of indignation. “You may be right Demon. Maybe my honor is gone, maybe I am like you after spending so long in this accursed cell with nothing to speak with but you heathens. I may be just another insect, but that means little, all that matters is the information I carry.”

“Do you truly believe you’ll ever get that information back to the Covenant?” Ben asked. “Do you believe you’ll even find your way home? You're just as lost as we are after all. You can try and break out of here, and even if you manage to kill us all by some miracle, you are still no closer to your goal.” 

Set opened his mouth to speak, but didn’t. Instead, he sat back down and remained silent, his face covered with an expression of unexpected disappointment.

_There it is, the crack in his logic. _Ben thought._ He’s stuck out here with us, even if he did fight his way through all of us, he’d be stuck fighting the same situation we are._

“I think I’ll give you some time to think about that.” Ben said. “And maybe you should think about your own future as well.”

“It will take more than your insolence to break me, Demon.” Set replied, his voice sounding far more exhausted then it had previously. “Leave this cell, I have nothing more to say to you.”

He saw no reason not to oblige. When Ben left the cell, Agent Thomas had a look that was a mix of satisfaction and utter confusion.

“I’m not sure I understand what you’ve just done, but you broke his entire strategy in one move.” Thomas said, obviously somewhat impressed.

“He had a fault in his logic somewhere, it was only a matter of finding it. Elites make strategies, but they’re far from infallible.” Ben said. “Our guess was correct, he does have a plan, or rather he did.”

“What is it he knows that he claims is more important them himself?” Thomas asked. “Obviously it relates to the Brutes somehow, but what could it be? What is the significance of it?”

“I honestly couldn’t guess.” Ben admitted. “But if we don’t get home, I’m worried it might not have any relevance anymore, to either us or the Covenant.”

“I’m worried about that as well...” Thomas said. “One last thing before I dismiss you Sergeant, what was he writing in his notepad?”

“He wasn’t, he was drawing.” Ben simply answered.

“Drawing?” Thomas asked incredulously. “What on Earth was he drawing?”

“An Elite, wearing Spec Ops Armor.” Ben said. “It didn’t seem relevant to the questions we had, so I chose not to ask about it.”

Thomas looked back at Set before turning back towards Ben. “I see, you’re dismissed Sergeant. I’ll see if I can get anything else out of him later.”

Ben offered a brief salute before leaving to continue with other duties.

**Menagerie**   
**Village of Lihua**   
**October 5th, 0901 Standard Time, 2552**

If Nathan wasn’t wearing heavy black armor the weather in the small village of Lihua might have actually been nice. It was hot and humid, but it was better than the frigid cold of the Charleston arctic where he had done his ODST training. Still, he had become accustomed to the constantly controlled air of the Dominion.

“Why aren’t we wearing our helmets again?” Yu asked, evidently having the same sweaty experience. Meadows and Fairfire also seemed to be relatively uncomfortable.

“Because, we want to show these people that we’re still human under all this armor.” Fairfire said. “It’s all about hearts and minds.”

“Aren’t we here to coordinate airstrikes?” Meadows asked. “I feel like that kind of defeats the purpose.”

“It’s not about the airstrikes, it’s about what’s getting blown up.” Fairfire said in a very matter of fact manner. “In this case, a couple of big spooky monsters that the Mayor here wants gone. It’s no different than blowing up Covies, they want the civilians dead, so we want them dead.”

“So why aren’t the other assholes joining us?” Nathan asked, referencing the fact they had brought only half of the squad, even leaving behind the Spartan.

“There’s more than one thing that needs doing on Remnant, and I trust you three not to fuck up the most important job the most.” Fairfire said. “And it’s not like we can’t handle a few Grimm.”

“Yeah, Grimm.” Nathan said with a brief chuckle. “If it's just Grimm then why don’t we just use our guns?”

“Have you ever tried to fight a building-sized scorpion before?” Meadows asked rhetorically.

“Kinda, remember that time we got to attend Yu’s family reunion? I got to wrestle that one guy who brought the cool sword.” Nathan said, eliciting a groan of annoyance from her.

“Don’t remind me.” she snarled, to which Nathan gave a brief chuckle, annoying each other was a favorite pastime of the both of them.

“I’m serious Nathan, these things get big.” Meadows warned. “There’s a reason the Commander wanted to make sure our equipment was up to snuff.”

“How do you know all this crap?” Nathan asked, Meadows hadn’t been here any longer than he had.

“Because I had nothing to do but browse the CCTS while they put my shoulder back into place.” Meadows answered. “Also I actually listen to briefings.”

“Oh yeah, that happened.” Nathan said, remembering Meadows’s second injury. “It’s still not as bad as that time-”

“Can it!” Fairfire snapped. “The town hall is just up ahead, and I expect you to act like marines while I figure out where we’re going!”

The town hall was quite a quaint little building, fitting of a small village in the middle of nowhere. It was unusual to see such a rural place in a nation that apparently had such serious crowding issues, although if giant monsters frequented the area Nathan could see why it wasn’t exactly a good place to live.

_Maybe we can help with that, it would be nice to win for a change._ Nathan thought.

After a brief wait, the Mayor quickly pointed them to the top of a nearby hill as the ideal position to spot the Grimm she had requested to be exterminated.

“When I asked for backup, I didn’t expect them to send aliens.” The mayor had said. “Are you sure you’re up for this, just the four of us?”

“Don’t worry, we can handle it. Compared to the things we fight in our corner of the universe, these Grimm things are a cakewalk.” Fairfire reassured. “And you might want to alert your people that we don’t plan on being quiet. If you hear loud noises, there’s no need to panic, that just means it’s going well.”

“Don’t worry, we can keep our people calm.” The Mayor said. “I wish you the best of luck.”

The walk to the spotting position was short and uneventful, with the only obstruction being the sparse arid forest that they walked through. It was also a bit of relief getting to put his helmet back on once they left the village. The top of the hill itself offered a good bit of visibility over the surrounding area, and he could even see sand dunes in the distance.

_I sure hope that means they won’t have much in the way of cover._ Nathan thought.

But when they actually reached the top of the hill Nathan was quite surprised by what the Grimm they were looking for actually looked like. Spotting the things was easy, as they could be seen, albeit barely, with the naked eye. The Grimm in question were about two and a half kilometers away and even at that distance, Nathan could tell they were exceptionally large.

“There they are.” Fairfire said, pointing as the moving horde of tiny black dots in the distance. “Yu, unpack the spotting gear. Nathan, grab a good position with that rifle. Meadows, pull security.”

After a chorus of acknowledgements, Nathan got to work finding a good position to use his Sniper Rifle. While he’d feverishly argued to keep the older and more powerful M99 Stanchion, he’d eventually lost, but that wasn’t a major loss when he had been issued one of the more modern variants of the sniper rifle as a replacement. The new “D” model had a better grip and scope over its previous siblings. He wasn’t actually expecting to use it, but it never hurt to be prepared.

“All set.” Yu announced as she finished setting up her spotting scope next to Nathan’s position.

“Get a good visual, both of you.” Fairfire ordered before she started making some adjustments to her helmet’s comlink module.

Nathan set the scope to ten times magnification and got a good look at the Grimm for the first time since Atlas. There were a lot of them, spread out in a loose “formation” with the larger and presumably more powerful ones in the center. Most of them seemed to bear some resemblance to animals, he spotted a massive Scorpion, a giant pillbug, and one particularly horrifying monster that looked like a giant snake, only it had another head where it should have ended.

_Move over drones, I have a new worst nightmare._ Nathan quietly thought.

The biggest one by quite a significant margin bore a resemblance to an elephant, only this thing was far and above larger. It was comparable in size to a Covenant Scarab, although it seemed a bit shorter, a quick measurement for scale with his rangefinder revealed it was around 45 meters tall. There were only a handful of them, but their size made up for their scarcity.

_Look at the armor on that thing’s head! You’d need a Spartan Laser to crack through all that bone!_ Nathan thought.

“Got a good look?” Fairfire asked.

“Absolutely.” Nathan reported. “It’s uh... kinda hard to miss them honestly.”

“How many targets?” she questioned as she gave her comlink module one final press.

“I’d say about 200, probably more, but that’s a rough guess.” Nathan said.

“A lot of them are the smaller ones.” Yu chimed in. “The really big ones only number around... maybe twenty?”

“Standby, I’ll patch in Voodoo Squadron.” Fairfire said before Nathan saw several new signals join their channel on his HUD. “Bolt, this is Onyx, we’re at the spotting site, how’s the signal?”

“Onyx this is Bolt, reading you loud and clear.” Another voice said over the radio. “Nice day for flying isn’t it?”

_Commander of the whole ship’s airgroup and he still sounds like he’s doing paperwork in the cockpit._ Nathan thought. _I’m glad I got out of the Air-force when I did._

“Certainly is, we’ve got a good view on the targets.” Fairfire said. “Yu, how’s the targeting laser?”

“It’s working.” Yu said as she rubbed the lens clean with a small cloth. “What’s our target?”

“Whatever looks the toughest, we’ll soften them up with the GBUs.” Fairfire said as she took a look with her own personal binoculars. “What about that Elephant thing? That looks like it could use a 500-kilogram redesign.”

“Certainly could.” Yu commented as she got to work adjusting the targeting laser, before it gave an unhappy sounding beep. “Damn, might need a minute.”

“Take your time, I’d rather one of those bombs not land on our hill.” Fairfire said. “Bolt we’re working on marking a target, where’s your squad at?”

“We’re in a holding pattern about four clicks up, we’re descending down to our targeting altitude now.” Bolt replied. “If we’re gonna use the GBUs we’ll need to get a little bit lower, over.”

“Understood, this isn’t exactly urgent yet, these guys seem really sluggish.” Fairfire said.

That clicked a thought in Nathan’s head, why the hell weren’t the Grimm attacking? They certainly had a large force, and it wasn’t like they had any supply problems, so what was stopping them? Instead of running over and effortlessly slaughtering the village they just patrolled a few kilometers away.

_Self-preservation maybe? Or hell, maybe just apathy._ Nathan thought.

A few minutes went by before the Sabres were at the right altitude to safely make the strike. Apparently a few flying Grimm decided to try and fruitlessly fight with them, although he only learned that when the sound of several autocannons firing at once reached the ground. Yu briefly chuckled, probably imagining the fine mist that the Grimm had been reduced too.

“Sorry about that Onyx, ran into a few contacts up here.” Bolt reported. “The rest seem hesitant to engage us, over.”

“Keep us warned if you see anything coming our way.” Fairfire ordered. “Yu, how’s it coming?”

“It’s done, target is lazed.” Yu said.

“Bolt this is Onyx, target is marked and you are cleared to engage.” Fairfire reported.

“Roger that. Standby Onyx.” Bolt replied. Less than 20 seconds later he reported in again. “Bomb away!”

Several seconds later a massive explosion erupted from the center of the Grimm’s formation. The fireball fully engulfed several of the large Grimm, but Nathan couldn’t see any of the actual effects through the massive cloud of smoke the bomb made. The ground shook slightly and the sound of the detonation followed. All of them gave a roaring cheer as the blast settled, when the smoke cleared the Elephant had been blown into pieces, each of which was dissolving.

“Bolt this is Onyx, good effect on target!” Fairfire happily reported. “Yu, shift that laser, let’s kill the rest of these bastards!”

The Grimm seemed to react with a strange sense of curiosity. It was almost like they didn’t know what was hitting them. After a second well placed bomb killed a second Elephant was when the Grimm started to catch on to the pattern and scattered their formation, seemingly searching for the source of the attack.

The Sabre Squadron continued their strikes, only running into resistance in the air from what one of Bolt’s wingmen claimed was a giant bird. None of the Grimm seemed to be able to catch on to the fact that the ODSTs were sitting up on the hill spotting for the fighters. The Sabres were not meant for direct bombing attacks, especially in atmosphere, but their hardpoints could still carry munitions that got the job done.

The Grimm never stood a chance. Laser guided bombs and missiles took out the larger ones whilst strafing runs with the Sabres cannons proved sufficient to tear the smaller ones apart. As the final members of Voodoo squadron expended their munitions, there were only a few of the smaller Grimm left standing.

“I’d call that a resounding success.” Yu said as we admired the carnage. “Looks like a few of the smaller ones made it.”

“They aren’t much of a threat on their own, let’s report in to the Mayor.” Fairfire said before switching on her Comm. “Bolt this is Onyx, you boys cleared out most of em’, well done.”

“Roger that Onyx, we’re on our way back to the barn. Been nice working with you Helljumpers. Bolt Out.” Bolt simply replied.

**Bridge **   
**October 5th, 1432 Standard Time, 2552**

The footage recorded by Fireteam Onyx’s spotting scope banished any fears of insufficient firepower from Richard’s mind. Bradford had an uncharacteristic grin on his face as he watched the Grimm get ripped to ribbons, and it was hard not to share it.

“Well, it’s good to know that we’re well prepared.” Richard commented.

“Certainly seems like it.” Bradford added. “It’s nice to be able to use something other than MACs and nukes and actually have it work.”

“I’d still trade one of our nukes for a qualified diplomat if I could.” Richard argued.

“And I wouldn’t complain.” Bradford answered. “We still need to see about making diplomatic contact with the other Kingdoms. Menagerie may be diplomatically promising, but its heavy industry would need serious expansion if we’re going to consider cooperation on building a slipspace drive.”

Bradford was right. While nowhere on Remnant had the machinery they needed, Menagerie was even more poorly equipped than the Kingdoms. Atlas would have been the obvious choice had their first contact gone better, as they seemed to be the technological leader of the planet.

“We should consider all of our options carefully. This is going to be our long-term goal, no matter how we handle this. We should also remember whoever we work with is going to be handed the keys to the most potentially destructive device humanity has ever made.” Richard said, reminding Bradford the scale of their actions was far greater than a single ship getting home.

“You’re thinking maybe we make some more positive relations before we make any deals? I can see the logic in that.” Bradford said with a nod.

“We don’t have any relations with the other Kingdoms.” Richard pointed out. “Chief Belladonna may have announced our existence to his people, but we’re still little more than a rumor in the eyes of most of Remnant’s people.”

“That’s going to change when General Ironwood and the council make their own announcement.” Bradford pointed out. “It’s not going to look good for us if the first thing they hear about us is that we’re making demands.”

“Indeed, and we aren’t going to let them do it first.” Richard said. “We’ll announce our presence ourselves, straight to the people of Remnant.”

“That’s not going to be as easy as it sounds.” Bradford warned.

“I’m well aware, but thankfully Agent Thomas has some experience in public relations.” Richard said. “I’ve given him the task of putting together how we’re going to do this.”

“Agent Thomas?” Bradford asked doubtfully. “I thought he was assigned to section 3.”

“He was, but he started off in Section 2.” Richard explained. “He assured me that he’ll think of something.”

Bradford still seemed doubtful. “You know there might be a reason he was transferred, what exactly was it that he did?”

“Presentation of internal projects to the higher-ups.” Richard said, before noticing that some of the other bridge officers were listening in. 

While Bradford had raised a good point, but he had also just questioned his authority in front of the whole bridge, which was a major mistake for a First Officer. “He’s the best man for the job, Lieutenant. I trust you’ll take my word for it in the future and assist him in whatever way he needs.”

_That’s just about as gently as I can put it. I could make an example out of him, but his mistake was minor, especially since I see where his doubts come from. _Thought Richard. _Also I can’t really replace him._

Thankfully Bradford gave a brief nod of acknowledgement, his expression unchanging. “I didn’t mean to imply otherwise Sir, I’ll make sure he gets what he needs.” The other bridge staff turned back to what they were working on.

_Tensions are rising amongst the whole crew, the last thing this barrel of oil needs is a spark. _Richard thought. _Of course, there isn’t much I can do about it other then do my job._

“Lieutenant Chen, any updates?” Richard asked, looking over at the navigation station.

She turned to look at him with a frustrated expression on her face. She did not look well, it was obvious that she had been losing sleep over her task. Her attempts to figure out a way home didn't have much hope from the start.

“Nothing Sir.” She reported. “The more I look, the more I confirm we’re lost.”

Richard figured he’d ask his next question very carefully, it had the potential to go poorly. “What are the odds of us finding a charted star, in your opinion?”

She quietly thought about it for a few seconds before answering. “At this point Sir, astronomical. It’s extremely likely we’ve left the Milky Way, not even the surrounding galaxies look familiar.”

Richard gave as firm a nod as he could. “I see, take five and get yourself some coffee Lieutenant.”

“Yes Sir, thank you Sir.” She said before offering a salute and leaving the bridge. As she left Bradford turned back to him.

“I don’t believe it either Sir, that portal couldn’t have taken us that far.” Bradford muttered. “Still, it’s hard to deny what’s staring us in the face.”

“I’ve been quietly doubting it too.” Richard admitted reluctantly. “I guess sometimes you just need someone to tell you something for it to finally click in your mind huh?”

Bradford gave a nervous chuckle. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Sir, Agent Thomas requests your presence. He’s on deck one, in the vehicle bay.” Ensign Gillespie interjected from the Operations station.

“Tell him I’ll be right there.” Richard said before turning to Bradford. “Bradford, you have the conn.”

“Aye Sir.” Bradford said with a salute as Richard departed from the bridge.

**Authors Note: Happy to see lots of you are enjoying Operation Unusual paperwork. I’ve got my own ideas cooking but I figured I would let SardonicEffigy start off the new series, given his mastery of the subject. For those unaware it's a sort of silly spinoff of "The Men From Onyx" in a place where we can tell stupid stories and offer some background information without colossal author's notes.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Mess Hall**

**October 5th, 1743 Standard Time, 2552**

Of all the ships that Fairfire had ever been stationed aboard, the Dominion’s Mess Hall was the quietest. It probably had something to do with the relatively small crew of the vessel, either way, it was a pleasant change of pace. While she didn’t mind loud and crowded spaces, that didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate a moment of quiet. It also offered her a bit of peace as she read through Ben’s personnel file, and there was a lot to unpack.

It took a lot to shake Fairfire, it took even more to outright disturb her. She took great pride in the fact that she could fearlessly stare down swarms of Covenant forces, but it would be a lie if she said she wasn’t the least bit disturbed by what she was reading. 

Unlike Yu, she had never bought into any of the rumors about the Spartans, but Fairfire had always been convinced that there was something controversial about them that made their intense secrecy so necessary. While she hadn’t been able to accurately guess what that controversial secret was, she no longer had to guess.

Even though she had always been convinced that something was always wrong about the Spartans, she was still quite surprised by what she was reading. It did give her a sense of unease, knowing that all of the rumors that plagued ONI’s reputation were completely justified. And yet, for all of the top-secret morally ambiguous crap she was reading, the most surprising thing to her was his short combat record. 

She knew that Ben had only recently come out of training, but she had at least expected him to have a more extensive career than he did. He only had two official operations that had involved actual combat, and she had been present for the big one. The other was a training accident that left him and two other trainees left in untamed woods, where they fought off a pack of timber wolves with rocks and sticks.

_ Bunch of kids on steroids fought a pack of wolves with rocks and won. It’s a good thing they were hardasses otherwise some ONI prick would’ve gotten quietly court-martialed. _ Fairfire thought. The photos of the dead wolves that were involved revealed that the kids had done just about everything right, they had clearly been trained very well.

Fairfire had actually been permitted to a considerable degree of information regarding Ben’s training and how qualified he was. Even despite the knowledge that this brutal regimen had been pushed onto kids, the knowledge that they had all volunteered for it eased her mind a little bit.

She did quite enjoy reading about the exercises in which he competed with other Spartans. The highlight was an instance in which he beat five other candidates with the assistance of Curie. The out of the box thinking was admirable to her, even if it did involve breaking the rules of the match.

_ I’ve gotta ask Curie for the video that this file mentioned, I wanna see that. _ Fairfire thought. She was honestly quite curious as to how Ben and Curie had pulled a victory out of such a pitched battle.

Ben’s psych profile was exactly what she expected and lined up with what she knew of him. Unquestionable loyalty and feverish determination were common traits that the propaganda ONI loved to shit out, so she wasn’t surprised to see he had both in spades. It also listed him as somewhat abrasive, which was apparently normal for Spartans.

_ He certainly had no trouble voicing his complaints about the squad to me. _ Fairfire thought.  _ Although I do find it funny I ended up taking life advice from a child soldier. Maybe next time, I’ll try giving him a few tips. _

Despite her unexpectedly large degree of access, she did encounter a fair amount of redaction and metaphorical black ink. The biggest place in regards to this was a large portion of his file labeled “Augmentations”, which was completely redacted. Even then, it didn’t take a genius to figure out what they had been doing.

_ Brutal training since childhood, crazy scientific modification, and powered armor. All part of your balanced supersoldier…. I guess. _ Fairfire thought.

She also wasn’t expecting to find references to Commander Richard, who had apparently played a critical part in Ben’s training. Fairfire remembered her own instructors as being brutal hardasses who had pushed every ODST candidate through the wringer, so she was surprised that a man who was seemingly as soft-spoken and professional as the Commander could perform those same duties.

By far the biggest unanswered question that lingered in her mind was why she even had access to what she did. While it was true that she was technically his superior, that did not mean much when confidential information was concerned. ONI was infamous for sending soldiers on dangerous missions to retrieve or destroy vital assets that the soldiers involved did not even know about until they were in the thick of the action.

Her only rough guess was that they were supposed to get some sort of briefing on their purpose as a unit once they arrived at Tribute, which had never happened. Getting stuck in the middle of nowhere seemed to have also taken away any chance that Fairfire had for an answer.

_ I suppose I could ask the Commander. He might know what we were meant to be doing. _ Fairfire thought.

“Hey Liz, where did you get the corn?!” Fairfire heard a voice yell at her from somewhere towards the galley, she didn’t even have to look to know it was Yu.

_ I hope they only know I tolerate getting called “Liz” because I know “Staff Sergeant Fairfire” is a mouthful to yell in a firefight. _ Fairfire grumpily thought. She’d always hated how formal her name sounded. To her, “Elizabeth” gave off the impression of a pampered Inner Colony Girl who grew up to be Trophy Wife, not a Helljumper with years of combat under her belt.

“I got the last one!” Fairfire yelled back.

A few seconds later she heard two sets of boots walk up to the booth she was sitting at and was unsurprised to see Yu and Meadows sit down across from her with their own food.

“I can’t believe you would do this to me, I thought you were my friend!” Yu said. Her voice carried a sense of teasing drama, but Fairfire knew that she didn’t really mind.

“That was the idea.” Fairfire said, playing along for the sake of it. “But I never really was on your side.”

Yu laughed. “Darn, you had me fooled.”

“Me too.” Meadows added. “Especially when you took a needle for me on Beta Gabriel.”

“Shut up!” Fairfire replied, laughing as she remembered the occasion. But she calmed herself down and gave him a more serious look. “Hey uh, on the note of injuries, how’s the shoulder?”

“Non-strenuous labor for the next three days, then Doctor Chase wanted to have another look at it.” Meadows said with a degree of irritation. Every marine seemed to get injured at some point in their career, but Meadows more clusters on his purple heart than anyone else in the squad. Hell, he had enough wounds on record that Fairfire had spotted even some Officers asking Meadows about the litany of experiences the man had.

“Good to hear.” Fairfire said. She knew how much it sucked to get stuck in Sickbay, so it was good that Meadows was staying on at least some kind of active duty. “I’ve heard the Commander’s working on a very strongly worded letter to send planetside.”

“I think Fireball already sent one when she let loose with that cannon.” Meadows pointed out. “But yeah, I think he should. I wanna know who the hell those dickheads were.”

There was a brief moment of silence as they all ate their food, before Yu asked a question totally out of the blue. “Whatcha reading?”

Fairfire looked down and saw that she was still holding her datapad up, she turned it off and placed it down. She decided to lie for now, knowing that Ben would face a lot of shit from Yu if the proud Helljumper knew that Fairfire had access to his file.

“Oh, just this romance novel I stole from Nathan’s collection.” Fairfire answered in an obviously joking tone. “Isn’t he such a romantic?”

“Uh-huh.” Yu said, with a sentiment of vague disapproval as she wolfed down another bite of her burger, before putting it down and speaking with her mouth still partially full. “I’ll be back, forgot ketchup.” 

As she walked off Meadows looked at her with a look of suspicion that she’s grown unfortunately used too.

“Something on your mind?” Fairfire asked.

“Why dodge the question?” Meadows asked back.

“Because I wanted to.” Fairfire stubbornly answered. “Why can’t you use your amazing people-reading powers for good and not evil?” She protested.

“Oh, I can be evil if I want.” Meadows reassured. “I’m like Atticus Finch, immensely skilled but I don’t like using that skill, it’s not fair to everyone else.”

“Who the hell is Atticus Finch?” Fairfire asked as she finished the last of her own food. “Dude’s name sounds like a furniture company.”

“It’s from an old... ah nevermind.” Meadows said, not willing to keep up the fight. “In all seriousness, what don’t you want her knowing?”

“That I’ve got Ben’s personnel file right here, which I was reading.” Fairfire answered as she shook her datapad.

“Ooh, I take it back…. good call then.” Meadows said. “How much?”

“Enough. Before you ask, yes, some of the rumors are true.” Fairfire said.

“Huh.” Meadows said, obviously thinking about how Yu would react to the news. “Don’t worry about her, sooner or later she’ll realize it’s not worth being competitive to such a ferocious extent.”

Fairfire made a quick gaze towards the Galley, seeing that Yu was talking to someone else.

“I’m not so sure about that.” Fairfire said. “Sometimes her age really shows, and it seems like she’s developed some bad habits. I feel like she’s trying too hard to be a hardass ODST, and while I appreciate that she’s tough… she doesn’t have to be so standoffish.”

“Didn’t you almost end up in a fistfight with the Lieutenant?” Meadows asked.

“Don’t get me started on that prick.” Fairfire growled. “And don’t act like you’re some patron saint either.”

“I’m not, but I didn’t call the Lieutenant a “Prophet of the Holy Field Manual”.” Meadows countered. “Or a Fobbit, or-”

“If you listened to one of his rants you’d see what I mean.” Fairfire insisted. “It’s like his personal handbook from God or something.”

“Hey, there ain’t nothing wrong with a bit of worship.” Meadows argued. “Nathan’s religious.”

“Yeah but he doesn't try to copulate with his Bible.” Fairfire protested before checking again and seeing Yu was coming back. “Also, I can tolerate him.”

“Yeah and that’s only because you-“ Meadows began.

“Fairfire, one of the navy crewmen stopped me, she said Curie needs to talk to you about something.” Yu said, interrupting Meadows mid-sentence, much to Fairfire’s relief.

_ Uh oh, should’ve guessed that would happen. _ Fairfire thought. She wasn’t worried about what the Artificial Intelligence would have to say, in all likelihood, she just wanted to remind Fairfire to keep the information confidential.

“I see, I’ll get to that then. I finished my food quite a bit ago anyway. You all stay out of trouble.” Fairfire replied as she climbed out of the booth and made for the nearest holotank.

**UNSC Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 5th, 1901 Standard Time, 2552**

Richard and Thomas had gone over half a dozen different plans on how they could make the UNSC’s presence known to the people Remnant. But every single one of them featured some sort of critical flaw, some would cause a panic, some would simply not be believed, along with many other problems. Occasionally, some of the other bridge officers would contribute, pitching in their own suggestions and ideas. But even with their contributions, brainstorming was taking a long time. Eventually, Thomas finally had a stroke of genius.

“We’re looking at this from a faulty perspective.” Thomas pointed out. “We’re approaching this problem using the average UEG citizen as an example.”

“You think that’s unreasonable?” Richard asked, somewhat surprised. “What we do know about Remnant’s people points to substantial cultural similarities between themselves and us.”

“That may be true, but hear me out at the very least.” Thomas insisted. “Back home, there are literally millions of ways information can travel. From Waypoint all the way to hand-delivering physical letters, we have a lot of ways of spreading the news.”

“And you think Remnant doesn't have that?” Richard said, trying to see his point.

“I can do better than that, I can prove it.” Thomas stated. “We touched down in Kuo Kuana, an urban, densely populated area. We landed with a little over a squad of marines, not to mention a damn Pelican. The leader of a major nation literally announced our existence. On any other Colony, the whole planet would have known about us since the day we arrived. On Remnant, we’re still a conspiracy theory that barely made the evening news.”

“So what you’re saying is that we need to think on a broader scale?” Richard asked. “We could always perform a landing in each Major Nation, at least, all of the ones that don’t try to shoot us down.”

“We could, but that would take substantial effort, and more importantly, time.” Thomas said. “We need to find an organization on Remnant that can distribute the knowledge of our presence, whilst also being taken seriously.”

“Is the media not sufficient?” Richard asked. That was a surprise to him, especially given Thomas’s background in public relations.

“The media isn’t all-powerful. Not everyone cares to pay attention to big events around the world, and not everyone will trust what major news outlets are going to say. Especially if it’s something as monumental as “Aliens are real and they’re visiting our planet right now.”.” Thomas explained. “I will admit that’s from the perspective of our civilization, but I believe it’s a reasonable assumption, especially given the developing state of their communications tech… and all of the conspiracy theorists”

Richard nodded. “Menagerie proved that we cannot trust the infrastructure of Remnant, at least in regards to electronics. But if we aren’t going along with the media, who would we work with?”

“I have a suggestion.” Curie interjected, her hologram appearing around a second after she spoke.

“Go ahead.” Richard said. Thomas also gave her a curious look, signifying that he was open to the suggestion.

“I would suggest the Huntsmen Academies.” Curie proposed. “They possess substantial renown and respect from effectively all of Remnant’s people, and they have pre-existing connections to the media.”

“The Huntsmen Academies?” Richard repeated the name of the organization, it sounded vaguely familiar, so he’d probably read about them briefly from one of the reports had been sent to him. “Refresh my memory, what do they do again?”

“They train government-sanctioned mercenaries.” Thomas summarized. “They have a strong track record of engaging Grimm and winning, and they seem to use some sort of technology called “aura” in order to fight more effectively.”

“Aura?” Richard asked. “From what I read, it was called "Semblance".”

“You are both incorrect.” Curie said, interrupting them both. “I will prepare a better put together explanation on their combat capabilities. What is important to know is that they are an exceptionally popular institution that has widespread respect and recognition nearly universally… despite some less than reputable individuals defecting to a life of crime once they complete their training.”

Thomas scoffed at the comment. “The planet’s largest criminal organizations were also founded by people these academies trained… they’re easily corruptible and seem to have a very poor screening process.” He seemed to think for a moment “What about public outreach? We need as many people as possible to hear about this, so that we don’t start a crisis later down the line.”

“All four academies coordinate directly with public news organizations, partly as a public relations campaign, but more so to alert citizens when Grimm are coming and what to do.” Curie answered. “I recognize it is not a perfect solution-”

“It’s a lot better than any of my ideas.” Thomas interrupted her. “But we’re going to need to do some investigation of our own if we’re going through with this.”

“We’ll have to make it quick.” Richard said. “We haven’t gotten a reply back from Ironwood since this morning, and that worries me about what he’s doing.”

“If you would like an answer, I will need authorization to breach his firewalls.” Curie said.

Richard thought for a moment before speaking. “Don’t do it. If he’s going to betray us, we wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise.”

“Some warning would be nice.” Thomas pointed out.

“Our course of action won’t change either way.” Richard countered. “We’re making this announcement. If we don’t, it’s going to cause a lot of problems later down the line. Not to mention it’s better to do this at our own pace.”

“Not to mention that we have a duty to these people.” Curie added. “There are terrible epidemics of disease that we could be preventing, lackluster infrastructure that could improve, not to mention the Grimm! These people need our help!”

“They aren’t UEG citizens.” Thomas pointed out. “Most courts would strike intervention down.”

“Well most courts won’t get us home. Or in a worst-case scenario, this might have to end up serving as a home.” Richard countered. “If we don’t intervene, things are only going to get worse for us.”

Thomas sighed in reluctant agreement. “What’s our backup plan for Atlas if this fails?” 

“We try further diplomacy to see if we can work out some sort of deal. If that doesn’t work, we’ll start crippling strategic assets until they come back to the diplomacy table.” Richard said after a moment of thought.

Thomas nodded. “That’s a solid enough backup plan. What about the other nations?”

“Too many unknowns to say, maybe we could get some contacts on the ground to help us?” Richard said.

“We’ll also need to consider how we’re going to fund the massive industrial expansions on Remnant that we are going to need to produce a Slipspace Drive, not to mention any other UNSC Operations.” Curie pointed out.

“Asteroid mining.” Richard immediately answered, it was just an obvious solution. “Inform Bradford to start the planning, look for targets with high concentrations of platinum group metals. We’ll need to see about getting those mining kits for our Cyclops units operational as well.”

“Rare metals?” Thomas asked. “I’ll admit, economics isn’t my strong suit.”

“Mine is espionage and teaching, war pushes us into roles where we’re not at our strongest.” Richard said with a grin. “But the first trillionaires were the first people to start mining asteroids, so maybe we can emulate that success.”

Thomas sighed with bitter acceptance. “If you told me that you were going to have me be an economist, I would have requested a transfer.”

Richard deadpanned. “Are you joking? I’m going to have Bradford handle this. You’re already far too busy.”

“I am?” he asked, clearly not understanding. “I’ve got a lot of gaps in my schedule you know.”

“Not for long. You’re the only person on the ship with any experience in public relations.” Richard said with a nod. “In related news, congratulations on becoming the official representative of the UNSC to foreign powers.”

**Atlas**

**Schnee Manor**

It said a lot about a man when his personal residence had a waiting room. Admittedly Ironwood hadn’t visited his house in weeks, what with his extremely busy position. Not to mention that he now had another extremely important task, perhaps the most important task he had been given, with the exception of Ozpin’s operations.

_ Relax, all I need to do is negotiate a peace between some unimaginably powerful alien force and the most arrogant man who has ever placed his feet on Atlesian soil.  _ He jokingly told himself. But Ironwood’s nerves of steel weren’t strained easily, he was up to the task.

“General.” The secretary said, getting his attention. “He’s ready, in the study.”

“Thank you.” Ironwood said. It wasn’t his first visit, nor was it the first time he’d ever felt sympathy for a woman who was no doubt not paid enough for her job.

Ironwood did his best to avoid letting his personal opinions on people impact his line of work. Jacques was by far the best example of his unwillingness to let that happen, as the man truly was a prat in his own unique and awful way. This was made even more important that effectively all of the Atlesian Militaries dust was sourced from the SDC, making a healthy functional relationship all the more important. But still, Ironwood had been quietly hoping some of the rumors around his mines were actually true, but only just enough so that he had an excuse to stop being polite to the man.

_ If Jacques was truly running a slaving operation, I’d take him in myself. _ He thought as he arrived outside of the study. But he’s always been careful to operate within the law, at least publicly.

A quick knock on the door was answered with a muffled “come in” from Jacques. Ironwood took a deep breath and opened the door.

Jacques was sitting at his desk, his demeanor suggesting something that Ironwood couldn’t discern, but he could guess the man wasn’t happy.

“Have a seat, General.” Jacques said, looking up from his computer.

Ironwood sat down before responding. “How’s business, Jacques?”

“Doing better than a few days ago.” Jacques said, his demeanor shifting to one that was more positive. “The White Fang have been docile lately, and without their interference we’ve been doing rather well.”

“Any trouble from the Grimm?” Ironwood continued.

Jacques sighed. “I don’t enjoy being rude, but cut to the point if you would.”

Ironwood bit his tongue and nodded. “We have an update on the people who attacked your mine, the rural one.”

“You do?” Jacques seemed pleasantly surprised. “Well that’s good news, who are they?”

“They call themselves ‘The United Nations Space Command’.” Ironwood said, noticing Jacques scowl at the name.

“The security forces did say that, although I expected it to be some half-baked excuse for trespassing.” Jacques replied. “Are they delusional to the point that they truly believe they are aliens?”

“That’s where this gets... unusual.” Ironwood began, speaking tentatively. “Because they weren’t lying, they aren’t from Remnant.”

Jacques scowl morphed into an outright frown. “Are you quite all-right General? You seem to be speaking nonsense. This isn’t a matter to joke about.”

_ I’m well aware of that you pompous... _ Ironwood interrupted his own thoughts to continue. “I’m not joking, they contacted me directly, explaining how they attempted to make contact with our planet.”

“They what?!” he sprang out of his chair in surprise and outrage. “And you just let them go?!”

“They used the CCTS, capturing them was never an option. Tracking them would’ve been equally difficult, considering they called me from their spaceship.” Ironwood said, reaching into his pocket to draw a picture of the vessel that he had taken a screenshot of earlier. He placed it on the desk in front of Jacques, who picked it up and examined it, his frown deepening.

“They also shared some footage taken during the battle, I watched it firsthand.” Ironwood said, carefully watching his expression as his face reddened. “I’m afraid they weren’t lying.”

“Peaceful.” Jacques spat dismissively. “What kind of peaceful envoy lands in the middle of nowhere?”

“Apparently they intended to land somewhere that minimized the risk of an aerial collision.” Ironwood added. “They must have managed to do that elsewhere, which is how they’ve accessed the CCTS.”

“They butchered my men!” Jacques shouted in protest. “That is not peaceful, that's an act of war!”

“Your men threatened to execute them where they stood and then attempted to arrest them. I don’t recall your security forces having the authority to just kill people like that.” Ironwood stated, trying to stay as professional as possible on the matter. “I managed to negotiate a truce with-”

“You what?!” Jacques asked indignantly. “I thought we agreed that we don’t negotiate with terrorists!”

“Terrorists?!” Ironwood asked, trying to keep himself reasonable. “I watched the entire encounter myself, I would hardly call them terrorists, especially considering that they outright stated they don’t want to fight, they even offered to leave your land.”

“You believed them?! You’re beyond gullible, you’re ignorant!” Jacques shouted. “That footage could well have been doctored, you have been played!”

_ Alright, I can see how this is going. _ Ironwood said, standing up from his own chair. “I will not allow our Kingdom to bear the repercussions for the crimes of a few lawbreaking mercenaries. We will have peace with this UNSC, and I will not send Atlesian citizens to die for your pointless, reasonless conflict!”

Jacques seemed rather taken aback by his response, but Ironwood wasn’t done speaking.

“I think you misunderstand the situation. You attacked a foreign power, with little justification, that has to have a level of technology we cannot even fathom. Your men and by extension your company vastly overstepped their jurisdiction. The aliens have attempted to extend an olive branch and end this before it gets worse, one I will be accepting! What kind of weapons do you wager a spacefaring civilization has Jacques? We can’t exactly fire back at something outside of our atmosphere!”

Jacques narrowed his eyes in hatred. “So you’re scared.”

Ironwood fumed, but forced himself to calm down before responding. Despite the way this conversation had gone, he would not resort to petty insults. “No, I simply have a duty to protect our citizens. I have already made my decision, I came here to ask how you’re going to respond.”

“We will Fight!” Jacques insisted. “If you don’t have the balls to take on a few terrorists, we will! The council will certainly be hearing about this!”

“I already discussed this with them. They have backed me on this matter.” Ironwood said, not lying but not exactly telling the truth either. The vote was 3-2, with Ironwood’s extra seat saving his proposal to keep the peace. Jacques was extraordinarily influential, and Ironwood was afraid he was going to have to seek public backing to get his resolution passed.

“We’ll see about that! Get out of my house!” Jacques shouted, pointing to the door.

_ Gladly. _ Ironwood thought, already imagining the logistic mess that Jacques was going to cause in retaliation.

  
  



	19. Chapter 19

**The UNSC Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 6th, 0640 Standard Time, 2552**

To his credit, Thomas reacted to his newfound role quite professionally. He had given a snarky remark, but had stood up and set out to start on his new duties immediately. That was something that Richard could appreciate, the man was very clearly out of his comfort zone, but he set about completing his duties regardless.

_Of course, I should know something about that. I was trained to command Prowlers, not frigates trapped in the middle of nowhere._ Richard thought as he set about planning his own duties, Thomas's effort meant he could focus on more immediate matters. His thinking was interrupted by Ensign Gillespie calling for his attention.

"Sir, incoming transmission from Brushfire Actual, high priority." The operations officer reported.

Richard frowned, "Brushfire" was the callsign they had given to the team in Menagerie who were working on the CCTS relay. A high priority transmission indicated something had gone seriously wrong, as even the earlier supply requests weren't listed as high priority. He stood up from his chair and walked over to the operations station, doing his best to disguise his mildly groggy nature as he did so.

"Go ahead," Richard said with a gesture once he arrived. The officer pressed a final key, bringing the face of Lieutenant Clark on screen, although most of his face was concealed by the angle at which he was wearing his marine-issue helmet. Richard recognized he was inside of the cockpit of a Pelican, likely using the onboard communications suite.

"Dominion, this is Brushfire Actual, confirm secure connection." He said in the moderately dry, slightly anglicized accent that made his voice stand out.

Richard was slightly concerned by his question. If Clark was attempting to secure a connection from the Pelican, it meant something was wrong with the main relay. If something had broken on the relay, something had gone wrong. Ensign Gillespie gave him a silent thumbs up from his part of the station, confirming the connection was secure.

"Brushfire this is Dominion Actual, affirmative on secure transmission, send traffic." Richard responded.

"CCTS Relay has been rendered temporarily inoperable, some kind of interference in the power systems knocked it out." Clark reported. "The techs are working on it, but they said it's software-based, something in the Atlesian code."

Richard frowned, Ironwood had promised that the UNSC would be permitted to have an official presence on the CCTS for further communication. It seemed that either he was wrong, or that maybe something had changed.

_Or maybe some intern spilled their coffee on a console somewhere, broke the whole thing_. He thought somewhat jokingly. _Can't say we haven't had that happen back in our space._

"Can we confirm if Atlas is responsible?" Richard asked, giving Clark a second to respond.

"The Atlesian techs denied it. They said it wasn't them, and that it had to do with their old equipment." He reported. "They couldn't say when the system will be back online."

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose and fought the urge to let out a groan of annoyance. "Is there anything we can do to speed that up?"

"We'd need help." Clark said. "Curie would be ideal, seeing as she could find the problem the fastest."

Richard hesitated before speaking. "Wait one."

"Affirmative, standing by." Clark reported.

He turned back towards the center of the Bridge, where Bradford and Curie were having their own conversation about something.

"Curie, I have an assignment for you." Richard said, perhaps a bit louder than he intended. She and Bradford both stopped speaking and turned to him.

"Is it related to our loss of connection-" she began.

"Yes." He interrupted, seeing what she was going to ask. "Get Ben up here and prepare yourself for transport. You'll be heading down to Menagerie along with today's supply shipment, we'll fill you in with what we know along the way."

"Oui, I will see to it." She reported before her hologram dissipated. Bradford quickly joined Richard over at the operations station, his scowl indicating his thoughts.

"Bad news?" He guessed.

"Not the worst, but still bad." Richard said. "Comm relay in Menagerie went down, we're sending Curie down along with Ben to go have a look."

"Any suspicions of foul play?" Bradford asked.

"We'll find out." Richard said as he gestured at Ensign Gillespie to resume the transmission, once again Clark's face filled the screen. "Brushfire Actual, do you read?"

"I read. Do you have any updates on our support request?" Clark responded.

"We're sending Curie down along with Ben, they'll be aboard the next supply shipment." Richard replied. "We'll send it down early, as soon as it's ready."

"Is a Spartan necessary, Sir?" Clark asked, his tone suggesting his surprise. "I'm not arguing, but that seems like quite a commitment for what could very well be a faulty circuit, over."

"His armor is rated to carry Curie, we don't have many other options. Not to mention it never hurts to be prepared." Richard said as he digested the last part of Clark's statement. "Do you not suspect foul play?"

"No reason to." Clark said with a shrug. "It may be more stable than it was earlier, but this tech is still rubbish. It's a good thing you gave us a Pelican as a backup, or we'd be in a bit of a bother."

_Ok, maybe his accent is thicker than I thought. _Richard thought. "Understood, hopefully you're right. Support will be down shortly."

**Menagerie Relay Tower**

**October 6th, 0727 Standard Time, 2552**

Riding in the cargo compartment of a Darter was hardly comfortable. The small dropship was designed to deliver supply shipments and cargo from a carrier vessel to the surface, and as such lacked a lot of typical features for passengers, namely seatbelts. Thankfully Ben's magnetic boots kept him from shaking around too badly during atmospheric entry, but it was still a relief to have his feet on solid ground again.

The Relay Station hadn't changed much from his previous visit, with the exception of a large grey dish mounted awkwardly on the roof. There were also a pair of marines positioned outside the main door with SMGs, and another 2 on the roof armed with the longer-range battle rifles.

_The rest are probably inside, or concealed elsewhere._ Ben thought, admiring the foresight of the commanding officer garrisoning the position. As he approached the building, one of the marines spoke to him.

"The Lieutenant is on the first level, the technicians are poking around inside of the floor of the Command Center." The marine reported.

"Thank you." Ben said, before continuing. He heard one of the marines make a surprised comment about his height, which he ignored.

"It's not an insult Ben, they are simply surprised by your large stature." Curie said reassuringly.

"Oh I know, but I doubt they've bumped their heads on half of the bulkheads I have." Ben replied, only somewhat jokingly. The marine's looks didn't bother him much anymore, very few of them carried genuine malice.

Finding the Lieutenant and technicians was remarkably easy, as most of them had congregated in the room directly below the Command Center. The technicians were working on something inside of the ceiling using stepladders, while the Lieutenant was reading something on a datapad and giving them instructions. Ben noted that the technical team included both Atlesian staff and UNSC technicians working in tandem.

_Good to see that at least some of us are working together._ Ben thought.

"We can't find it!" A muffled voice called from inside of the ceiling.

"Try the other circuit." The Lieutenant calmly responded, seemingly not having noticed Ben's arrival. "We'll give each of them a shot, and move on if that doesn't work."

"I don't think he's noticed us." Curie noted, speaking only to Ben.

"Sir." Ben said, announcing his arrival as he gave a salute.

The Lieutenant looked up from his tablet and opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a coughing fit. He suppressed it easily enough before regaining his posture. Before addressing Ben he gave a muttered comment about "damned dust".

_It is surprisingly dirty here, I guess that's what all the cleaning supplies on the Darter were for. _Ben noted. _Just how understaffed was this place?_

"Ah, at ease Spartan. I'm afraid I must have missed your arrival." He said, permitting Ben to relax his Salute. "I'm Lieutenant Clark. I presume you have Curie with you?"

"Oui, I am here. Are the terminal systems from earlier still active? I may be able to discern the problem from there." Curie said, using Ben's helmet speakers, which attracted the confused look of one of the Atlesian technicians.

"Certainly, right this way." Clark said, leading them back the way Ben had entered. As they headed up a stairwell to the command center, Clark continued speaking. "We've been trying to isolate the source of the issue, but to no avail, it's as if it keeps changing."

"What do you mean?" Curie asked. "Is the problem not with the electrical systems?"

"On the contrary, it seems to not be tied to one specific system." Clark replied. "At first it was the power, then the power fixed itself and the transmitter broke, and that was followed up by the circuitry going haywire."

"That's certainly unusual." Curie noted. "Do you have any theories?"

"At first the technicians were convinced that it was a power surge, but that turned out to be incorrect." Clark reported. "Cyber-Warfare was my guess, but our techs denied that."

"Have the Atlesian technicians shown any signs of being... unhappy with us?" Ben asked, looking for a less antagonistic way to say what he was thinking.

"Absolutely not, they've been extremely happy for the assistance." Clark replied with a tone suggesting he believed what he was saying. "And given that this station was at around twenty percent of it's suggested complement, I can understand why."

When they arrived in the command center, Ben noted some changes since he had last visited. The monitors had more solid stands, and some of the Atlesian tech had been reattached in a very informal manner. But most notably was the addition of a UNSC hydrogen-powered field generator in the center of the room, which Lieutenant Clark activated.

"That'll bring the main console back online." Clark said. "I don't know how you plan on transferring her-"

"It won't be a problem." Ben removed her chip from his helmet and allowed her to make a short wireless "leap" into the command terminal, a useful feature that made up a large portion of the cost of her datachip. Around a second later, Curie opened a direct channel to him via TEAMCOM. "All good?"

"All good, but the speakers for the system are broken, we will speak like this." She explained. "I will require some assistance with solving this problem, can you start by activating the auxiliary system terminal and enable wireless transfers?"

"I wasn't exactly trained as a technician, especially for this kind of tech." Ben replied, inspecting the Atlesian built terminal with a sense of slight unease.

"Do not worry, I will help." Curie offered.

Ben didn't quite understand exactly what he was doing, but Curie's instructions enabled him to accomplish the things she needed done. At some point while they were working, Lieutenant Clark left to help Curie in another way on the lower level. After around half an hour, Curie had access to the whole relay station, and a solution was still nowhere in sight. The problems had only spread.

"I just do not understand! It's as is something else is tinkering with the system!" Curie said, frustration evident in her voice.

"Are there any signs of intrusion?" Ben asked, not really knowing how to help.

"Of course not, I would have told you!" she retorted before she calmed herself down. "I am sorry, this is just... exceptionally frustrating."

"We'll fix this." Ben said, doing his best to sound reassuring. "It might be something we're not accounting for."

"At this point, that is likely the only option." she said, still somewhat defeated. "I do have one last idea, come back to the command terminal and retrieve me."

He did as she asked, placing her chip back inside of his neural interface. "What's the plan?"

"We're going to investigate the relay's power complex. I've already notified the Lieutenant, but if something is tinkering with the system, they are likely there." Curie responded.

Ben nodded, that made sense. A hard-wired connection was inherently more reliable than a wireless one, and allowed for less delay when interacting with electronics compared to wireless connections.

The power station for the relay was only around a hundred meters down the road for the station itself, so the walk wasn't long. It was surrounded by a two-meter tall concrete wall protecting all of the sensitive equipment, with only a chain-link gate to gain entry. He noticed that the whole compound had been built in one of the few spaces in Kuo-Kuana that wasn't being lived in, with the whole road surrounded by trees, shrubs, and unusually tall grass.

"This place seems to be sectioned off on purpose." Ben noted aloud.

"Indeed, the dust generators used to power the relay have a degree of risk to them." Curie explained. "I imagine this small forest is just an imaginative way of filling in the empty space."

When they actually arrived at the gate and looked inside, he was rather surprised by what the generator systems actually looked like. It more resembled a scrapyard, with equipment and power lines stretching across the whole complex. He spotted a few large wooden poles that must have at one point been old-timey telephone poles, as well as multiple big white machines, all bearing the symbol of the Kingdom of Atlas.

"This is it?" Ben asked, surprise evident in his voice. Curie's cautious response caught him off guard.

"Ben, it was not like this when we first arrived." Curie warned. That set off a cacophony of alarm bells in his head, all culminating in one overwhelming concern. Whoever had done this to the power relay could still be around.

"Where are the marines stationed to guard this?" Ben asked as he slowly drew his MA5B from his back. He mentally kicked himself for not realizing the lack of friendly security earlier.

A few moments later, Curie responded. "Lieutenant Clark says nobody has been assigned to guard this portion of the relay."

Ben fought back the urge to swear in frustration, his opinion of Lieutenant Clark plummeted. Someone had came in, trashed the power complex, and nobody had even realized. "Tell him to get his marines over here, let's see what happened."

Ben held his rifle his right hand and moved his left hand to open the gate, when all of the electronic debris shifted slightly, all at once.

_Ah hell, that can't be good. _Ben thought, as he took his hand off of the gate and returned it to his rifle's grip, taking a step back in the process.

"Ben, stand back!" Curie warned, an instruction to which he complied.

As he began to take several steps back, the junk shifted again. It was a much faster jolt this time, and it resulted in several of the smaller metal parts and wooden splinters on the pile falling to the ground. It jolted again, and again, moving in seemingly random directions.

"Curie, what's in there?" Ben asked, unsure of what he was looking at as the wreckage started to settle.

"I am not sure, maybe-" Curie began, but was quickly interrupted as something massive emerged from the junk, sending debris flying as it stood up.

It took Ben a moment to put together exactly what he was looking at, its form becoming more obvious as it stood up. The bizarre contraption was humanoid, in that it possessed two arms, two legs, and a "head", but that was where the similarities ended. The whole body was crudely constructed from the debris and junk, centered around a "skeleton" made out of telephone poles.

The machines and the metal plates they were made of now served as a crude armor, although it was a patchwork construction that left much of the skeleton exposed. The large cables now served as a binding tool, holding the whole contraption together. Forming a crude "head" that barely stuck out of the top of its torso was a short, broken off piece of radio tower, likely a reserve component for the relay station.

The sight left Ben utterly dumbfounded and momentarily stunned as the ten-meter tall engineering abomination leaned down and seemingly took a look at him. The contraption extended its arms away from its torso and took a few experimental steps. As it moved. Ben spotted one crucial feature mounted on its head, a comparatively tiny plate of bone nestled in its radio-mast face. A single glowing orange eye that stared at him with immense hatred.

"It's a Grimm, a Geist-type!" Curie realized, her voice full of awe, and a small amount of fear.

Ben snapped himself out of his trance, and took aim at the face. As he squeezed off a burst, it moved its arms at a frightening speed, covering its face and taking a massive lumbering step towards him in the process. The armored arms proved sufficient to block his rounds, preventing its face from being hit.

"Fall back!" Curie called out. Ben silently obeyed as he fired another burst to get it's attention, before breaking into a sprint down the road, moving away from the relay station. The Geist gave chase, but its body was fairly obviously not meant for quick mobility. Even with it's far larger stride, Ben was able to outpace it.

"My weapons won't scratch that thing, do the marines have any heavy weapons?" Ben asked, trying to think of a way to fight back. He double-checked his ammunition with his HUD, but he didn't have any armor-piercing rounds. Standard FMJ rounds certainly held some penetrating potential, but the makeshift armor plating of the Geist had held strong.

"Negative, but their Pelican is armed with an autocannon." Curie reported, a hint of panic evident in her voice. "I've instructed them to take off, but they will need time, at least a few minutes."

Ben quickly realized that he was running out of road, and that leading this thing into civilians was not an option. He could see several civilians watching the monster before running.

_Good, the further away they are from this thing, the better_. Ben thought as he took a look back at the behemoth chasing him. "See if Menagerie can get us some assistance, I'll try to keep this thing occupied."

Ben dug in his heels mid-run and slid to a halt, before raising his rifle and looking for any notable weaknesses in the armor as the Geist closed the distance. He selected a chink in its outer armor on its chest, allowing him to target it's telephone pole skeleton directly. He managed to fire off close to thirty rounds before it started getting too close for comfort.

The Geist tried to slam one of its massive arms into him, but Ben had plenty of time to roll out of the way, clearing the side of the road and barreling into the surprisingly thick plant life. He began to move further away from the road, hoping to use the trees as cover.

The Geist, undeterred, swung its other arm around in a massive arc. The appendage plowed through several palm trees with a moderate degree of difficulty, but Ben was already deep enough into the trees that it missed him, albeit barely.

_My shields might take a hit or two from that, but beyond that I don't have high hopes. _Ben thought as he gave the beast a retaliatory stream of gunfire. Even though the effect was negligible, its true purpose was to keep the thing focused on him, which it did well. When his magazine clicked empty, he took the opportunity to move deeper into the forest.

The Geist took a few more swings to try and clear out the trees, but quickly realized it wasn't effective. Instead, it started to pull the trees out one at a time, which it did so with concerning speed.

"Ben, local forces are on the way. We just need to-" Curie said before the Geist threw a tree at Ben, it's trunk serving as an impromptu javelin. "Dive!"

Figuring she had done the math on the matter, Ben performed a dive forward. The tree scratched his back with some of its branches, doing a minor amount of damage to his shields, which recharged nearly instantly.

_It's learning, time to change my own tactics._ Ben thought as he got back to his feet.

The Geist prepared another tree, this time throwing it widthwise in an overhead manner. As it tossed the tree, Ben sprinted into the now far sparser brush, moving directly towards the Geist. The tree passed over his head before slamming into the trees behind him as he continued forward. As he made it to the road, the Geist tried to crush him with its foot, but he kept up running and managed to avoid it with a quick pivot. He started heading back towards the power station, reloading his rifle as he went.

"Good thinking, we can't lead this thing into the rest of the city." Curie commented. "We only need to keep it occupied for a few more minutes, help is on the way."

"Easier said than-" Ben said as he took a glance back at Geist, stopping as he saw what the creature was doing.

The Grimm hadn't made much progress, but it had begun to rearrange its body. The plates that made up the chest armor began to shift away, opening and revealing a cavity in its body. Inside of the chest was some sort of machine, roughly embedded inside of its torso. One of its arms reached inside of its chest and pulled the machine out, before crushing it in the "hand" and preparing to throw the resulting shrapnel.

"Curie, drop shield?" Ben asked, knowing that dodging that many projectiles was a waste of effort.

"Ready!" Curie reported.

Ben waited until the Grimm was most of the way through the throw before he deployed the shield, hoping to goad it into thinking he was going to take the hit. Ben deployed the shield without fault, and the dome of light quickly surrounded him. Around a second later, dozens of fist-sized bits of shrapnel bounced off the shield, with many more scattering into the forest or above him. The shield flickered as it absorbed the blows, but stood strong.

The Grimm had not wasted the time it had been given, however, and was closing the distance towards Ben substantially faster than it had earlier. Recognizing that standing still was a bad idea, Ben ran out of the back of the shield, passing the power station and reaching the edge of the trees beside the road, the relay station right before him. The Grimm continued to give chase, only stopping briefly to grab a sturdy looking tree and carry it along, wielding it like a club.

_I'd almost prefer Covies to this._ Ben thought as he came to a halt, taking aim with his rifle.

"Rifle fire has so far proven ineffective." Curie warned.

"I wasn't using shredder rounds last time." Ben replied as he looked for the best target.

Aiming for the face was fruitless as long as it had its arms to protect it. Thankfully, it's left arm possessed a gap in the armor, exposing its telephone pole skeleton, which Ben exploited. The shredder rounds were effectively useless when it came to punching through hard surfaces, but softer surfaces were torn apart with ease, giving the shredder rounds their gruesome name. The moldy telephone pole offered some resistance, but after the first few rounds, it started to crack and weaken, before finally breaking into two. The Grimm's left arm fell to the ground, useless and inert.

The Grimm was undeterred by the loss of its limb, once it got into range it swung its impromptu weapon In a wide arc. Ben miscalculated how far down the weapon would reach to the ground, and his attempt to duck under the strike was met with failure. His shields shattered in the blink of an eye, before he was sent unceremoniously flying through the air. He landed in the grassy area around the power relay, digging a several-centimeter deep trench as he came to a stop.

"Ben, get up!" Curie practically yelled, her normal dignified tone giving way to concern.

"I'm good." Ben said as he got back to his feet. His chest ached where he had been struck, but he was far from out of the fight.

He took a quick glance around and saw the marines had begun firing at the Grimm, although the effect was minimal. The amalgamation of junk and machinery was seemingly unconcerned with gunfire, and was doing something with its improvised weapon. Ben watched as it took the tree trunk and smashed the top of it off into the ground, before installing the relatively intact weapon into its left arm socket, and leaving it to float in place, seemingly through magic.

_Oh come on._ Ben thought, monumentally annoyed.

"It's face seems to be a critical weakness, if we can hit it..." Curie began.

"Not while it's got both of its arms." Ben replied as he adjusted the grip on his rifle and checked the ammo counter, twenty-four shredder rounds left. "The tree arm won't block much, but the armored arm has to go."

"I calculate a three and a half percent chance of breaking its arm with our remaining shredder rounds." Curie said cautiously.

The Grimm adjusted its new arm, and began walking towards them once again, seemingly unconcerned with the marines as it used its armored arm to cover its face.

"I have a frag." Ben said, hearing the familiar tone as his shields recharged. "It won't do much against the plating, but if I can get it inside of the arm..."

"You'd shatter the skeleton." Curie finished. "You'll need to be close to get a throw that accurate."

"If it's going to stick, throwing it is out of the question." Ben replied as he returned his rifle to its magnetic-holster, large weapons would disrupt what he was planning.

Curie went silent for a moment before responding. "I see what you're planning. But please, be careful."

He ran directly towards the Grimm, which turned to face him. The Grimm took a step towards him in return, before a series of powerful explosions suddenly rocked it's body, centered around the chest area.

_What?_ Ben thought. A quick glance confirmed the marines hadn't taken the shots, and he didn't hear a Pelican in the air, so that couldn't be the source of the fire.

"Ben, friendly reinforcements have arrived! They're coming from the power station!" Curie reported happily.

Again the Grimm's body shook as a series of small explosions erupted against it. This time Ben caught a glimpse at one of the projectiles thanks to Spartan Time, and was surprised to see what it was.

"Cannonballs?" He asked, unable to hide his surprise as he slowed himself to a halt, wanting to reevaluate if his plan was still the best course of action. He took a look down the road, and was even more confused by who had shown up to help them.

Standing in a brilliant navy blue uniform was a Faunus woman, with dark skin and a panther tail, holding perhaps the most unusual weapon he'd ever seen. It resembled some sort of naval cannon, from an era where sails powered ships. It was covered in some sort of netting not dissimilar to the rigging on a sailboat, which supported a structure offering a more stable grip.

She loaded what appeared to be some sort of box magazine into the top of the weapon and took aim as she rapidly closed the distance towards the Grimm. Ben joined her, hoping to give the Grimm two targets to focus on instead of just one. The Grimm moved towards the woman, unable to ignore the threat and was met with another barrage of cannonballs in return.

_This planet is just full of surprises._ Ben thought as he resumed his run. He quickly got close enough to execute his plan.

"Tell the marines to cease fire!" Ben said.

"Done!" Curie replied before Ben made a long leap onto the Grimm, gripping onto a series of wires wrapped in a coil around its leg, before beginning to climb.

Spartans were trained to board and even capture enemy vehicles, usually after a large jump to get to them. Ben had decided to take a similar approach to kill the Grimm, he would climb up to its arm, plant his grenade inside the armor, and achieve a shot at its face.

Thankfully his new Remnant-native ally didn't fire any further shots, although he was a bit too busy to see what she was doing. The Grimm noticed his presence, and tried to shake him off. His right hand managed to keep a grip onto a metal pole by its hip, but his left hand was thrown free. He reached up to his right shoulder and freed his kukri from its sheath, before using it as a climbing instrument.

He quickly reached the armpit with the assistance of his new tool, spotting a chink in the shoulder armor in the process, an ideal target. Before he could prime his grenade, he realized the arm was getting closer to him and was forced to make a risky jump around to it's back to avoid being crushed. He was successful, and managed to secure a good grip with his kukri in its neck.

As he primed his grenade, he realized that there was a small hole in the back of the "helmet" that the beast had fashioned. A blast in the beast's neck could potentially sever the head, and prove to be a far more valuable target.

"_Don't ever disregard luck when you happen to find it."_ Ben quoted in his head, remembering Mendez's instruction as he slammed the grenade into the hole with enough force that it became stuck, creating a sizable dent around the embedded explosive. He leapt off of the construct, kicking off of it in order to get as far away as possible. Around a second after his rough landing, the grenade detonated.

As he had hoped, the head of the beast came flying off, with most of the torso destroyed in the process. The woman who had come to assist them took several shots as the head flew, hitting it a few times with non-explosive round before it landed in a monumentally more damaged state than it had started.

Not willing to take any chances, Ben reached for his sidearm and walked over to the severed head. Before he even arrived, a ghost-like Grimm emerged from the wreckage, and was promptly shot in the face by both Ben and his new ally. The Geist fell to the ground, dead and dissolving as it's gigantic former body fell apart in the background. Ben holstered his sidearm, and the unknown friendly slung her cannon over her shoulder and approached him.

"Aye, that was ballsy of you tin-man, nicely done." She said in a thick Irish accent as she adjusted her absurdly fancy captain's hat. Once she was done she held out her hand to shake. "Name's Mags, how about yours?"

"Sergeant Ben, UNSC." Ben replied as he accepted. "Thanks for the assistance, I wasn't exactly planning on fighting a building today."

"It certainly was a chunky one wasn't it?" Mags asked, admiring its corpse. "Dunno if I've ever seen one get that big before, it must've been building up."

"They do that?" Ben asked, concerned about their new enemies intelligence.

"Of course not, this was all a prank you see, it was just me fat cousin in a suit." She said in a joking but friendly manner. "Jokes aside, I think I saw the bit with your knife land over that way."

"Thank you." Ben said, but stopped himself before he left. "And if you've got a minute, the Lieutenant probably has a few questions for you."

"Don't mind at all, I've always wanted to see what kind of creepy stuff the Atlas jerkoffs keep in there." Mags replied, gesturing towards the relay. "Besides, it's not every day you get to talk to an alien. Ma won't believe me when I tell her..."

**Unknown location**

**October 6th, 1132 Standard Time, 2552**

Black sand made for a less than optimal welcome mat, but being in the middle of nowhere did have its negatives.

_Maybe I could ask Tyrian to pick up a nice area rug while he's out, something that contrasts well with the crystals. _Salem thought.

The building had formerly belonged to someone from the olden days, but there was nobody left to argue with her claiming it was hers. While sometimes the bland landscape did bother her, it meant staying away from the eyes of the public, and that made it all worth it.

_At some point soon, I'll go pay "Ozpin" a visit, maybe I could take his castle._ She thought pleasantly, imagining how much better Beacon Academy would look if it was on fire.

Of course, the biggest problem for her wasn't the door to her castle, or even Ozma's latest victim. And encountering Dr. Watts in the hallway did little to ease her nerves.

"I have an update, a substantial one." He said, gesturing at the older, custom Atlesian-make laptop nestled under his arm.

"Well it will certainly be better than the news that I got from Lionheart, unless it's the same news." Salem responded. "Meet me in the conference room in a few minutes, I'm going to go see if the servants have anything hot left to drink."

It turned out that they did, although she would never admit that Ozma's fondness for hot chocolate had passed to her. Of course, if anyone did notice, they were too scared to mention it.

_Scared and capable, as all who serve me should be. _Salem thought as she took a sip of the hot but refreshing liquid, before going to see whatever the doctor had to show her.

"Ma'am." He said with a nod as she entered.

"What is this "update" that you have to show me?" She asked.

"The rumors about the aliens appear to be true, rather surprisingly." Dr. Watts said.

"Lionheart told me that, he said they were planning on contacting all of the academy headmasters, and they even sent out emails alerting them." Salem said with a scowl. "Ozpin will undoubtedly try to recruit them when they get to him."

"I did not hear about that, my web-crawlers must be outdated." Dr. Watts said, referring to his CCTS surveillance software.

"Is the rest of your information out of date, or do you have anything actually worth reporting?" Salem asked, mildly annoyed with the man.

"I do." Watts reassured. "The Menagerie relay tower recently came back online after an outage, and this video has been shared practically everywhere in a matter of hours."

Watts showed her the video in question on his computer, it showed a man in armor and a Huntress fighting against a Geist made out of garbage.

"I assume the armored one is an alien?" Salem asked, wondering what was supposed to be so impressive.

"You would be correct." Watts said. "The rate at which this video has spread is what is far more interesting, however. It's far too fast to be natural."

"The aliens are responsible?" Salem Guessed.

"Indeed, although they have covered their tracks very well, digitally at least." Watts said with a degree of begrudging respect. "But the giveaway is in the message, that this "UNSC" and Remnant can work together."

Now Salem was starting to understand, it was being manipulated. "So the aliens are trying to make themselves look like heroes, convince the public that they're the good guys."

"That was my takeaway, it remains to be seen whether they will succeed, or what they even want." Watts said. "Either way, I thought you should be informed."

"You thought correctly, good work." Salem replied. "We'll keep an eye on them, and see just what kind of obstacle they are going to become."


	20. Chapter 20

**Menagerie Relay Tower**

**October 6th, 0829 Standard Time, 2552**

Lieutenant Clark kept the questioning short, recognizing Ben was probably even more confused than he was. For some reason, he had insisted that they debrief on the roof of the building, which did little more than give Ben a chance to see the fortifications the marines had set up.

_Sandbags and a crate of grenades are not going to cut it, we need to dramatically up our arsenal here._ Ben thought, thinking about how the marines would have been all but defenseless without him and Mags. _I'll make sure to suggest that in my after-action report._

"Is this just an everyday occurrence for you?" Clark asked incredulously, his eyebrows raised as he admired the wreckage from his position, bits and pieces of the Geist having been scattered practically everywhere.

"Nah, things like this aren't that common. I'm shocked this thing didn't trigger the Grimm Alarms, must be broken." Mags explained in a strange casual manner. "Geists are tricky, especially the older ones that know how to hide. You gotta wriggle them out and break em', not just in the physical sense."

"How did it slip through the cities defenses?" Ben asked her. "Shouldn't it have attacked someone before it got here?"

"It was probably gathering materials for a body, they can be picky." Mags explained. "And Menagerie has a large border, lots of it is left unfortified. But the land isn't where I do most of my fighting, it's not my strong suit."

_I should have guessed that, given her... aesthetic. _Ben thought as he looked at her truly unusual uniform.

"I could imagine that, your forces must be stretched thin." Clark said, obviously thinking about something else while he spoke. But Mags was too busy giving Ben an indiscernible expression to care.

"Is there something in my hair?" she asked, even though her short hair was covered by her hat.

"No, it's just... Your uniform is rather different than what I've seen." Ben explained, trying not to be rude.

"Shoot, and here I thought you were gonna tell me how pretty I am." She jokingly replied. "But I already know that, so I can see why you didn't."

"Madame, you said you're a huntsman, yes?" Clark interjected. Ben giving him a silent thank-you for getting them back on track.

"Huntress, yes." She corrected. "But I do other things from time to time."

_I thought "huntsman" was gender-neutral, like "Corpsman" or "Spartan". Then again, maybe she just takes pride in her title._ Ben thought.

"Have I been correctly informed that you operate similarly to mercenaries?" Clark asked, leading Ben and Curie to both let out quiet sighs.

"It's a wee bit more complicated than that, but I guess you're "officially" correct." Mags said, making air quotes with her hands. "That being said, if anyone born this planet said that to me, I'd floor the gobshite."

Clark gave a quick nod. "My apologies, I meant no offense."

"We're a bit... new around here." Ben added, backing up his superior.

"And learning new things!" Curie added, voicing what Ben was thinking far better than he had...

"Aye, none taken. What's your point?" Mags asked, placing her hand on her hip sassily.

"I meant to inform we don't exactly have... money." Clark said. "Obviously we didn't hire you, but I could perhaps arrange something with the Commander when I get a chance."

Ben thought about voicing the defiance of protocol, but realized Clark had probably already taken that into account. He hadn't given any indication of going off of the books yet.

_If anything, he's too textbook. His defenses should've accounted for the old power relay, even if they weren't using it._ Ben thought, making another mental note for his report. _Then again, I also wouldn't have expected a giant hostile abomination made of garbage to emerge from the junkyard either._

"My wages are already paid for by my group, but there was one thing if you don't mind." Mags said, speaking with a degree of eagerness. "I want a picture of your mothership."

All three of them were dumbfounded by her request, leaving Curie to speak first. "You want a photograph of the Dominion?"

"Aye, I love ships, always have. I want to see what a genuine spaceship looks like." Mags said, without a hint of irony. "Is that something you can do?"

"Lieutenant?" Ben prompted. It would be his call to make, but Ben couldn't think of anything that said it wouldn't be allowed, of course, that didn't mean there wasn't anything that said he could do it.

"I don't see why not, Curie can you-" Clark began.

"It is done, I can also confirm the relay station is now back online." Curie reported cheerfully. "It should be in your inbox, but it is quite a large file comparative to your storage space, you may wish to downscale it."

Mags grinned. "I see, did ya need anything else?"

"Not presently, no. We may contact you in the future, should the need arise." Clark responded. He extended his hand in a formal handshake, which Mags viciously accepted. "We will likely use the CCTS, so keep an eye open.

"I certainly will." Mags said before turning to Ben. "Later Ironclad."

_Ironclad?_ Ben thought, mildly insulted as she walked away.

"Spartan, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like Curie to have one last look at the system before I relieve you." Clark said, grabbing his attention again.

"Absolutely Sir." Ben said along with a similar acknowledgement from Curie as they went back down to the lower level.

**UNSC Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 6th, 1001 Standard Time, 2552**

_So much for having free time._ Richard thought to himself as he took one last sip out of the absolutely dreadful coffee he was drinking.

Several major incidents had occurred on the Dominion over the last twelve hours. A fire had broken out in one of the heating units for the food in the kitchen, but was thankfully stopped rapidly by the cooks. A series of fights had taken place, mostly between marines but some navy personnel were involved as well, and it wasn't hard to guess why.

Richard had finally been convinced that the effort wasn't worth it anymore, and it was starting to take its toll on the young bridge officer. Chen had made some complaints about trouble sleeping, and she'd become far more irritable than normal. The final straw that convinced him she needed to stop was when Curie quietly reported that she'd taken a drink heavy visit to the Officers Club

_I messed up, and it got one of the bridge officers hurt. _Richard thought regretfully. _The worst part is that we already knew going home wasn't likely, but the pressure to perform must've overpowered logic._

Most of the crew, however, had not known that, and word of Richard's order spread like a wildfire. The scuttlebutt that they were stranded had been spread for some time, and having confirmation only plummeted morale to rock bottom. Fights and arguments erupted across the ship, and Richard was being forced to make some tough calls in order to maintain discipline.

The report from the Menagerie Relay Station was a mixed bag. On one hand, Grimm had been proven to have a degree of intelligence, and the Geist's abilities were disturbing, to say the least. But on the other hand, Ben and a Huntress named Mags had killed it without any friendly loss of life, and the footage of Ben climbing the Geist taken from a marine helmet camera had become extremely popular amongst the crew. The morale boost it offered was critical, even if it was temporary.

_I'd be lying to myself if I said I wasn't proud of him._ Richard thought pleasantly.

"Commander." A familiar voice said, coming from the entrance to the bridge as Agent Thomas walked in, taking a position next to Bradford. He didn't seem much worse for wear, but at the same time, his posture suggested he had not slept well.

"How goes your task Lieutenant?" Richard asked, hoping for good news.

"I've made some progress, although I'll admit that most of what I've been doing is research." Thomas said with a shrug. "And not just on the locals here, I'm trying to figure out what I'm actually allowed to do as well. Not that I have much to work with, since these guidelines haven't been updated since 2525, right after first contact."

"Look on the bright side, at least you have guidelines." Bradford said somewhat reassuringly. "I'm still trying to figure out what we're going to pay the crew with if our currency is meaningless."

"That hasn't stopped them from gambling with it." Thomas muttered awkwardly. "Regardless, I have made some progress. I've enlisted the help of some of the marines to quietly fan some of the rumors regarding our existence, that way it's less of a shock when we do go public."

"The marines?" Bradford asked, his surprise evident. "Why them, and how?"

"They weren't doing much besides spreading rumors anyway, they might as well do it productively." Thomas argued. "As for how, I have them browsing the CCTS leaving "leaks" of information. A harmless bit of public knowledge on one forum, a picture of a marine in battle-dress on another, that sort of thing."

"They aren't exactly trained for propaganda." Richard pointed out.

"What if they start sharing things that we'd rather keep private?" Bradford asked, far more accusingly. "We've fueled enough conspiracy theories."

"Curie and Ensign Gillespie are filtering their uploads, the sensitive ones don't get posted." Thomas said, like it was obvious.

"It's a job and a half." Gillespie added from the operations station. "By the way, I got Gage to help me since Curie needed to use the processing power for something else."

"Ask me next time! This is an important assignment, don't go roping the whole ship into this!" Thomas said, looking very unhappy, but he kept his composure. He turned his attention back towards Richard and Bradford. "Trust me, I've thought this through. Although getting them off of more... vice related topics, was rather difficult."

Richard nodded, Thomas's plan had some merit. Telling the public that a rumor was true would be less of a shock than springing the reveal on them suddenly. Bradford seemed less than convinced, but didn't make any further arguments.

"We also released a slightly edited version of the footage from our encounter with the Geist, redacting sensitive information and such." Thomas added. "The idea is to show that we're more than capable of helping with the Grimm."

Bradford snorted. "How well did that turn out?"

"With a little tweaking of the recommendation software on a few key social media websites, very." Thomas said proudly. "It's too early to tell just how successful this little information campaign is going to be, but it looks very promising."

"What about official diplomatic contact?" Richard asked, trying to keep them focused. "We're going to have to go public officially at some point, being a rumor isn't great for making ties."

"I've also been working on that." Thomas reported. "I've scheduled a call with a member of Vacuo's Council, although my research suggests they're something of a minimally functioning government."

"Their actual recognition is minimal, but go on." Richard said, causing Thomas to frown slightly.

"I've also managed to secure some information for someone whom I would strongly recommend establishing contact with." Thomas said as he handed over his datapad, the screen displaying an information profile on a man. "Headmaster Ozpin of Beacon Academy."

He looked very different than General Ironwood, with little to no military influence in his appearance. His green and black suit matched with his reading glasses and white hair didn't give off the appearance of a warrior, but rather a quiet intelligence.

"Beacon was Vale's Academy, right?" Bradford asked.

"Yes, and this man is its Headmaster." Thomas said. "He's extremely well respected, and his word is generally followed by the other Headmasters."

"Even Ironwood?" Richard asked doubtfully, as Ironwood had a visible streak of pride.

"Even Ironwood." Thomas confirmed. "That file has everything you need, except for one thing. I thought I'd do some digging in Beacon's servers to see what I could find on him, and I inadvertently discovered something unsettling."

Richard thought about criticizing Thomas for violating Vale's cyber-security, but he decided to wait. He watched as Thomas made several gestures, before bringing up an empty folder.

"I present to you, Headmaster Ozpin's personal data storage." Thomas said in a somewhat mocking tone.

_Ok, not what I expected._ Richard thought.

"Nothing?" Richard asked, voicing his surprise. "A man with that much on his plate has to have somewhere he puts his paperwork."

"My thoughts exactly, which leads me to my biggest problem. I have no idea where that is." Thomas finished with a stony expression. "In fact, nobody seems to know much about his personal life."

"That is disturbing, do you think he has something to hide?" Bradford asked with a worried frown.

"Short answer, no." Thomas replied. "My guess is that he's paranoid, or he's correctly deduced that he's not at the top of the technology ladder. My best guess is that he keeps his personal information the old fashioned way."

"It doesn't matter either way." Richard interjected. "Ironwood had a point, we shouldn't be poking holes in the firewalls of people who we want to trust us."

"I would argue that the stakes of our current goal outweigh Chivalry, but I will no longer intrude into private software unless ordered to." Thomas said, seemingly surprised by Richard's objection.

_I'll admit his point is a good one, but maybe destroying Remnant's cybersecurity shouldn't be our first reaction to a problem._ Richard thought.

"We still need a course of action if we are going to contact him." Bradford pointed out, getting them back on track.

"We can use the CCTS again, now that we're reconnected. We'll see if he's willing to work with us." Richard said, before turning to Thomas. "Was that all Lieutenant?"

"It was, but I do have one final request." Thomas said. "Would you let me know when Curie is back aboard? Her assistance would be much appreciated."

"I'll make sure to send word along, you're dismissed." Richard said, prompting Thomas's exit. Once he was gone, Bradford gave him a look of confusion.

"He seems a bit... insecure." Bradford noted.

"He doesn't have much reason to be, he's doing a decent enough job given the circumstances." Richard replied. "I'm going to make preparations for our call to the Headmaster, can you-"

"Sir!" Gillespie called out loudly, getting everyone's attention. "We have a fistfight breaking out in the mess hall, requesting orders."

Richard sighed, that put a slight damper on his plans. "-deal with that?"

"I'll see to it personally. Gillespie, have the MP's meet me at Section 7!" Bradford yelled as he walked out of the bridge, the sounds of his boots reverberating far more than normal.

_He can give off the look of the intimidating Commanding Officer very well. _Richard thought with a degree of admiration. _Now then, let's see what I can expect from the Headmaster._

**Menagerie Relay Tower**

**October 6th, 1320 Standard Time, 2552**

Ben and Curie wouldn't be leaving Menagerie until the next supply shipment. Left stuck on the ground until then, Ben and Curie ended up with a rare opportunity of some free time. Curie commonly directed what they did with that free time, but Ben had no complaints. Curie usually picked good places to go and things to do, and Ben didn't have many. Curie hadn't been very subtle in her demands to see the coastline, and Ben hadn't argued. It was only a few blocks away from the Relay station, and Clark had cleared it without argument.

_The closest thing we had to a sea on Onyx was the saltwater swimming pool, or maybe Christmas Lake, but that was more like a glacier._ Ben remembered as he listened to Curie speak.

"I've always wanted to see an ocean! I have in the past of course, but satellite feeds don't compare to actually being there!" Curie said happily, they continued to use TEAMCOM, as to not confuse the pedestrians.

"I'd be inclined to agree, almost makes me wish I wasn't wearing the armor. The sun seems nice." Ben said, noticing some of the people walking along the street giving him various looks.

"You could take your helmet off at least, you certainly could use the Vitamin-D." Curie proposed.

"I'd rather not. I could get photographed, and I'm sure there's already plenty of dangerous information on the CCTS about me, no need to add to it." Ben replied cautiously.

"I think you underestimate my talents." Curie replied calmly, without a hint of indignation. "If there was any such information, I would notice it and erase it from existence."

"Oh I'm well aware, I'd just rather not add to your workload if I can help it." Ben said. As he finished speaking, they arrived at a large wooden boardwalk which seemed to border this area of the coast. Multiple extensions stretched from the central structure on the coast, with several sets of stairs leading down into the water.

There were lots of people, all of whom were Faunus from what Ben could see. Most of them gave him either wary looks or friendly ones, but some seemed to not even notice him. A pair of hooded Faunus wearing peculiar clothes gave him wary glances, before turning away when they noticed Ben looking at them. He heard Curie audibly gasp, snapping him out of his thinking as he looked out at the ocean.

Most water Ben was familiar with was either totally clear, or muddy and dirty. This was very different, it was a magnificent blue that stretched as far as the eye could see, with waves smashing into one another as if the water was intentionally trying not to stay still. The sun reflected off of it in a powerful manner, coating the whole ocean in magnificent light.

Several ships prowled its surface, not like the massive cargo freighters or water-based aircraft carriers Ben was familiar with, however. These were far smaller, and many of them seemed to be powered by sails. Most of them had some sort of wooden construction, which Ben assumed was a cost-saving measure.

"It's very beautiful, is it not?" Curie asked after a moment of quiet.

"In an odd sort of way I suppose." Ben replied, speaking honestly. "It's bigger in person, that's for sure."

"I would say that a view from orbit does not always offer such an honest perspective." Curie said wistfully.

"That, and it's only the sight, you can't hear it." Ben said genuinely, the ocean was louder than he had expected. He tried lowering his helmet's sound muffling all the way, and was surprised by how loud the crashing waves were.

"I'd mention the other senses, but they aren't applicable in my case." Curie said. "I know there was... oh my goodness, Ben look!"

Curie had two very different tones for when she was excited. One was for when they were in danger, and the other was for when she spotted something interesting. Thankfully, this was the latter, as a pair of Faunus swam past beneath them, each of them bearing distinctive aquatic features. One had a large fin protruding from their back, and the other a set of webbed feet, which they used with practiced ease.

"Now there's something you don't see every day..." Ben muttered, it seemed Remnant had far more surprises hidden away.

"That's incredible!" Curie said ecstatically. "I had not considered the possibility that Faunus could be born with traits inherent to sea creatures!"

"How exactly do they work, the Faunus?" Ben asked, trying to word his question as kindly as possible, even though he knew the people walking by couldn't hear him.

"It is complicated, and beyond my understanding at the moment." Curie said apologetically. "I am putting together a collection of these anomalous sciences for later study, as well as presentation to monsieur Richard."

"That's probably a good idea, I'm still not entirely sure how "aura" works, or even what it does." Ben said before he spotted another Faunus, this time with a far more dramatic animal trait. She had the tail of a fish,which she moved behind her with practiced ease, allowing her to swim rapidly. "Hey, Curie, what were the half-fish people called in those old legends?"

"Mermaids." Curie replied, obviously fascinated by the sight.

"How do they... walk?" Ben asked, turning his attention away as to not give the impression he was staring.

"I... don't suppose they do." Curie said with a tone of realization. "That must be why this place is built how it is, so that they may interact with land-based Faunus."

"Or humans." Ben added.

Curie scoffed. "I will examine that particular debate once I can find a willing donor of Faunus DNA. I can't imagine that they truly classify as a whole new species."

That confused Ben. "What are they then?"

"My theory is that their difference lies in race, not species." Curie stated. "Look at any of these people, and you can very clearly see the blatant influence of human DNA. Humans and Faunus can even interbreed if my research is correct, which is what spawned my hypothesis."

"What about the scientists on Remnant and their research?" Ben asked. "I find it hard to believe that someone, at some point, didn't do a study on this."

"You do make an excellent point, but I had already considered that. I requested permission to contact the various learning institutions of Remnant, so that I may ask for copies of their records. Unfortunately, I have been instructed to wait until a later date." Curie said, mildly disheartened. "But I am undeterred, there is much we can learn from this planet and its people."

"I will certainly not deny that." Ben replied, before a feeling of realization kicked in, followed by a very sudden sense of urgency. "We should head back, they might need us."

"We have plenty of time." Curie reassured. "The Relay Station is perfectly fine, and we will be informed if that changes."

"I... yeah, you're right." Ben said apologetically. "Sorry, I'm not sure what happened there. I guess I'm just jumpy."

"If you're eager to move on, I'd certainly like to see the Museum of Beach Artifacts." Curie offered.

"Beach artifacts?" Ben asked.

"Things that wash up on the beach. A group of collectors made a museum to keep them all and show them off." Curie said. "I read about it on the CCTS."

"I don't see why not, as long as the Lieutenant signs off on it." Ben said.

"He is already aware, and has given us his approval." Curie said reassuringly.

"Very well, point me in the right direction." Ben said, following the Nav-marker that appeared on his HUD shortly afterwards.

**Atlas, Schnee Manor**

**October 6th, 1834 Standard Time, 2552**

In truth, Jacques had a few regrets about his gut decision that he had made earlier. Having several of his men killed had made a lot of bad press, and keeping the press off of him was of utmost importance. He was more than willing to admit he'd acted irritably due to that, and it had potentially cost him dearly.

_It doesn't matter, being seen as weak isn't an option, not to the council, not to Ironwood, and not to some animal-lovers in a spaceship._ Jacques thought, now committed, it was too late to go back.

It didn't take a genius to figure out what the UNSC were considering. From what his advisors had told him, the UNSC was a military organization, one with powerful weapons and talented soldiers. Almost everything they had found was on the CCTS, and most of it originated from Menagerie, which they had apparently reconnected to the rest of the world.

_They should know there's a reason we didn't build a proper CCTS tower on Menagerie, it's because it wouldn't last a week._ Jacques thought bitterly, though it didn't really matter. If the Aliens wanted to ally themselves with an inherently violent and stupid people, he wouldn't argue, they would be the ones hurt in the long run.

If the UNSC were going to potentially attack, he was more than willing to fight back and defend his assets. Even if Ironwood would fight to keep the Atlesian military out of the fight, Jacques was positive that a large portion of it would be at the very least sympathetic to his cause.

The first stage of his plan was stepping up his recruitment. The SDC security forces needed to be much stronger if they were to keep his assets safe, and their expansion had been put off for too long. Mistral proved a perfect source of manpower, the crime-ridden kingdom having no small amount of combat-experienced individuals willing to hurt people for a few Lien. Some moderately increased wages paid on time did a very good job at securing an employee's loyalty.

_The personnel expenses may be vast, but you need to spend money to make money. At least they aren't on salary._ He thought.

Equipment was another major concern, but his contacts in the Atlesian military would take care of that. Ironwood was a busy man, and "losing" a few bits of experimental tech in an organization that large would be easy enough. For now, they would be forced to work with somewhat out of date weaponry and only a handful of airships primarily meant for decorative purposes.

_I put Mr. Carrison in charge of security for a reason, he'll get it done._ Jacques thought, reassured that his personally-appointed staff would see this debacle ended.

Jacques was faced with handling the biggest problem of all, funding. Any good company needed capital to fuel its projects, and the SDC was no exception. Building a private army was going to be an expensive challenge, but they had an advantage in their Dust monopoly. The whole world would be funding their war, whether they liked it or not, everyone needed Dust after all. Jacques had many contacts in the higher echelons of society that also made contributions, with many of them going so far as to deliver their investments in person once he had asked.

_I've dramatically overestimated Ironwood's popularity it seems. Amongst the rabble of Mantle he may be well respected. But to anyone with an education, he's a nuisance._ Jacques had thought.

His final move was to liquidate all of his existing dust stores, selling it for what most of Remnant considered an extremely low price. This was a precaution in case the UNSC managed to impair their ability to conduct business and helped alleviate their financial problems. It wouldn't lead to major profits, but it would do more good then if it was just lying around in a warehouse.

_Hopefully, none of this will be necessary, their demands weren't very extreme, there's a chance they could back down._ Jacques thought. _But it never hurts to be prepared._

He didn't have any remote expectation of winning a prolonged war, but winning a war wasn't what he needed to do. All he needed to do was gather his strength and make it so that taking him and his company down wasn't worth what it would cost. Deterrence worked on the Grimm, it would work on the UNSC as well.

His planning was interrupted by a ringtone, which he gave a quick reaction too. It seemed that the call was coming from one of his aides.

"Make it quick." Jacques said curtly.

"The Council is about to vote on the demands that the UNSC gave them." The man reported. "We've pulled every string we have, and it looks like we'll be able to block it."

"The UNSC gave the Council demands?" Jacques asked, more confused than angry. "And the Council are acknowledging them?"

"They are, but it's related to the Company. The meeting is being held secretly right now, the public doesn't know about it."He reported. "They want the Security Chief of the Breezeway Mines on trial, apparently they didn't get the memo that they killed him."

_That speaks volumes as to their intelligence._ Jacques thought, coldly amused. "Is that it?"

"They also want the Council's approval to demand reparations, which is what's being voted on." The aide reported.

Jacques scowled. "Damn fools, we'll see how this all plays out."

"I figured I would call and warn you Sir, they're talking about summoning you for your input on the matter." The aide said. "Should I have your ship standing by?"

"No need, I have nothing to run from." Jacques replied.

"Of course Sir, I'm afraid I'll have to cut our conversation here." The aide said before complaining extensively about bad signal in Mantle, which Jacques ignored.

_Not unexpected, acknowledging the aliens are real publicly probably wouldn't do a good job at keeping everyone calm._ Jacques thought. "Understood, thank you for the warning."

He ended the call and returned to his thinking, the Council's vote on the matter would be instrumental in whatever plan he came up with. He could only hope his influence outweighed Ironwood's.


	21. Chapter 21

**UNSC Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 6th, 1323 Standard Time, 2552**

Lieutenant Thomas apparently had a dramatically different definition of "some intel" than Richard. His report on Headmaster Ozpin was twenty pages long, and in a state of respectable organization given the time constraints he had been working under. Richard, now informed, was ready for the meeting. All he needed was his newly-appointed diplomat, who was already on his way.

_If I'd known he was a paperwork deity, I wouldn't have thought so negatively of him when we first met. It certainly explains his grouchiness._ Richard thought jokingly.

"Sir, I'm ready when you are." Thomas said, announcing his arrival as he walked onto the bridge. "Where's the XO?"

"Bradford is sorting out a problem in Weapons, we'll be doing this without him." Richard said.

"What, just... on the Bridge?" Thomas asked incredulously.

"What's wrong with that? I trust my crew, and they've not given me a reason to be hiding critical information that they may overhear. If they're genuinely distracted they have methods to cancel out our voices" Richard replied nonchalantly. "If anything, this is killing two birds with one stone. It means I don't have to brief the bridge officers on any updates."

"I suppose I could see the logic in having to give less briefings." Thomas said with a nod, before turning to Ensign Gillespie. "Is everything ready?"

"Everything's all set Sir." Gillespie responded with a thumbs up. "Also, not to be a buzzkill, but Bradford is still going to need briefing later."

_Yeah, I think a small part of me already knew that, but at least he'll listen._ Richard thought as he gave his reply. "I know Ensign, now, let's not delay any further, get us in contact."

Thomas took a position beside Richard, standing with his hands behind his back. Richard adjusted his posture one last time before the faint ringing was audible throughout the bridge.

_Huh, I guess Curie made a few upgrades to the software._ He thought before the ringtone abruptly canceled out, and a video feed of Headmaster Ozpin appeared on one of the video screens before him.

"Hello Headmaster." Richard began without delay. "My apologies regarding the wait, we had intended to contact you earlier, but unforeseen circumstances prevented that."

_No need to share our internal problems with this man, especially if he isn't trustworthy._ Richard thought.

"Please, call me Professor." Ozpin replied once he had gotten over his surprise. "I will admit, even though we're speaking right now, a part of me doubted your existence. I have the utmost faith in General Ironwood but… it is quite the fanciful story."

"I don't mean to be rude Professor, but we do have many important things to discuss." Thomas said in a faintly assertive manner, trying to keep them focused.

"Of course, Mr..." Ozpin replied in a friendly manner, offering an opportunity for Thomas to give his name.

"Lieutenant Thomas Oswald, Office of Naval Intelligence. I have been given the responsibility of handling international affairs, for the time being" He said, introducing himself in full.

_He did a good job making himself sound important, maybe he's more cut-out for this then I thought._ Richard thought. _He certainly seems confident._

"Well, it is good to finally meet both of you." Ozpin said, his expression indicating he was speaking genuinely. "I have been told that you've made contact with Menagerie and it's Chieftain, but have you established contact with anyone from the Huntsmen Academies?"

"We have, we've had a few brief exchanges with General Ironwood. We have also had a less than pleasant incident regarding a dust mining company." Thomas said, being notably vague. Ozpin seemed to tense up at Ironwood's mention. "We've also had some 'incidents' with the hostile creatures you call Grimm."

"Well... it seems that you've already been quite busy." Ozpin noted. "Did General Ironwood tell you about what we do at our schools?"

"You train Huntsmen, a concept that I will admit is foreign to us. The word clearly means something very different on your world." Thomas said. "General Ironwood did briefly touch on it, but if you could explain it a bit more clearly, we would greatly appreciate it."

_A good chance to double-check our intel. _Richard thought, silently sitting as they spoke.

"I would be happy to." Ozpin said, with slight but noticeable enthusiasm. "Huntsmen are warriors who are charged with defending peace and civilization from the creatures of Grimm. They work without regard for borders, and also act as a support for the police and other services, like fire departments. They are the guardians of everyday life."

"I admire the optimism." Richard said, thinking about how a system like that could go horribly wrong. "I can't say we truly have a job like that in our civilization, unless you count us, of course, but I wouldn't."

"That actually leads me to a very important question." Ozpin said with his head cocked. "Who exactly are you? Not personally of course, but your organization, the UNSC. What is it exactly that you do?"

Richard decided he should probably be the one to answer that question. "The United Nations Space Command is the governmental agency responsible for all science, military, and exploratory interests of the United Earth Government. The name doesn't truly encompass everything that it's responsible for."

Ozpin nodded, his look of curiosity only intensifying. "Earth... that's your planet I presume?"

"The homeworld of humanity, although we have colonized many other worlds over the last few centuries." Richard clarified. "My ship, it's crew, and myself, all fall under the jurisdiction of the UNSC Armed Forces, the military branch."

Ozpin appeared to digest the information for a few seconds before speaking. "Homeworld, where do you suppose Remnant fits into that?"

"Unless your fossil records are older than ours, I don't see how that's possible." Thomas challenged, although he spoke softly. "The evidence we have to suggest humanity's natural evolution on Earth is truly staggering, with only Remnant offering any true opposition to that explanation."

"We believe it's extremely unlikely that Remnant's civilization was spawned from Earth, or vice-versa. Our current working theory is that our two civilizations had similar paths in their formation, although the flaws with that theory are obvious." Richard added.

"Do you truly believe it's that unfathomable we just happened to develop similar civilizations?" Ozpin asked, his expression unreadable.

_There's no way he believes that._ Richard thought. _So why ask?_

"The odds of humanity evolving twice with no input from itself is frankly absurd. Any scientist worth their doctorate would discount that immediately." Thomas countered. "The odds of Remnant being as habitable as it is are already astronomical, adding more baggage on top of that does not aid the credibility of the theory."

"I suppose we'll have to figure that out in due time." Ozpin replied. "Besides, I'm sure you didn't contact me to talk about evolutionary theory, or the history of Remnant."

"You'd be correct, Professor." Richard replied. "We require your assistance with a goal of ours, one that if handled tactlessly, could cause a panic."

Thomas continued where Richard had left off. "Our current goal is to announce our presence in order to dispel some of the more... esoteric rumors. We believe that if we don't do this soon, or if we handle it improperly, the resulting panic could result in a Grimm attack. The last thing we want is for your people to be in danger."

"A global one." Ozpin added. "I see your predicament, and I believe I am more than capable of helping... That being said, It would be remiss of me if I did not ask you to clarify your intentions."

"Our utmost priority is keeping the Dominion and her crew safe, although I hoped that much would have been obvious." Thomas replied. "But I presume you're talking about our interests regarding Remnant?"

"More so the people of Remnant, but yes." The Headmaster sat back in his chair, bringing his hands over the lower half of his face. "I would also like to hear it from the one in charge."

_It's diplomacy, we aren't asking your daughter out. _Richard thought, mildly annoyed.

"Your caution is understandable." he interjected. "The primary mission statement of the UNSCAF is the defense of Earth and her colonies, as well as their citizens. While Remnant may not be a colony of Earth, we do have an obvious vested interest in preserving the lives of our fellow man."

"That's reassuring... but does your government feel the same way?" Ozpin asked skeptically.

Thomas looked at Richard in a manner that asked for his approval, to which he gave a brief nod. "We aren't currently in contact with any other UNSC forces at this time. We suffered a malfunction in our superluminal transportation device, and as a result, we believe we are far outside of our galaxy. We currently do not have a way to re-establish contact with High Command."

Ozpin looked at the man for a moment, keeping his face hidden behind his hands. "You're lost?"

Thomas cleared his throat. "For the time being, yes."

Ozpin thought for a moment before asking his next question. "So who do you answer too, if your leaders are not here?"

"Commander Richard is the commanding officer of this ship, as such, we answer to him." Thomas explained.

"I see, so you plan on staying on Remnant?" Ozpin asked.

"Provided we find no route home, yes. I have a little over a thousand souls on board, and I don't intend to keep them all cooped up in their quarters." Richard stated, doing his best to speak as clearly as possible. "That being said, we believe that we have a lot to offer Remnant."

"That's good, the people of Remnant will need something if you wish to gain their trust." Ozpin said, his expression unwavering. "I personally don't doubt your intentions, Commander. But you will find that on Remnant, what people say can be very different from what they do."

"We're well aware." Thomas briskly responded, Richard could tell that Ozpin's comment had come across as insulting to Thomas. "Now, you said you could help us with our objective."

"That I did. All four major Huntsmen academies have close ties with almost every form of media. The intention is to help people recognize that Huntsmen are their allies, not their oppressors." Ozpin began.

_What was that he said about what someone says versus what they actually do again?_ Richard sardonically thought to himself. _He must think we're truly clueless._

"The other purpose is to help provide warning against threats to their well-being, be it Grimm, natural disaster, criminal activity… or otherwise." Richard didn't miss the veiled insinuation that they could be perceived as such a threat. "I believe that this is the best way to announce your existence, especially if you intend to speak with the people of Remnant."

Richard nodded, that made a lot of sense. The UNSC used similar methods back home, and ONI section two was entirely designed around public relations and propaganda. "Do you have any specific idea of how we go about doing this?"

"I do, the best way to make an announcement like this is to be calm, direct, and make this as "normal" as we possibly can." Ozpin said. "I would propose we simply pass your statement directly to the press, let them take care of the rest."

"Our statement?" Thomas asked, confused.

"I will not speak for you, whatever you intend to say to the people of Remnant, you must do it yourself." Ozpin said. "It is not for me to try and sway the people, your words must be your own."

**UNSC Dominion**

**Marine Quarters**

**October 6th, 1643 Standard Time, 2552**

By no means was Nathan a lazy person, he simply appreciated the finer things in life, like not working. Yu thankfully shared that trait, and a similar schedule, so the two of them decided to do what had become pretty much customary on the Dominion whenever free time was had, browse the CCTS. Remnant was full of some frankly bizarre shit, and it was really interesting to see just what kind of stuff they considered normal.

Currently, the two of them were watching some kind of blood sport on Yu's datapad. Apparently, it was a semi-regular tournament where the protectors of the planet would come together and beat the snot out of each other. The tournament they were watching had happened several years ago, and from what Nathan could tell, they were using live ammo.

"Why the hell don't we have this back home?" Yu asked in amazement, as she watched someone with a flaming sword deliver a strike with the strength to behead a Brute Chieftain.

"It would certainly be more exciting than golf." Nathan replied. "But I admit we'd probably kill each other without the shields."

"You mean aura?" Yu asked.

"No I mean shields, I don't buy that crap that it's powered by your soul or whatever. If we could stop bullets by thinking about it really hard, Meadows wouldn't get wounded every time we go planetside." Nathan argued, unintentionally shedding some irritation into his voice. "Seriously, you really think we wouldn't have figured out how to channel our chakra or whatever?"

"Nathan, you're doubting the people who live alongside giant dinosaur monsters that literally smell fear." Yu pointed out.

"Wait, there's some that look like dinosaurs?" Nathan asked.

"Fuck yeah! Check it-" Yu began, but was interrupted as Fairfire ran into the room and stopped right in front of them.

"Shut your mouths and turn on Vale News Network!" Fairfire yelled, partially out of breath as she took a seat next to them.

"Uh... ok." Yu replied, knowing better than to ask why.

She quickly searched for Vale News Network and brought up their live broadcast, and both of them were surprised to see Commander Richard speaking directly to the camera, with the UNSC emblem in the background. He was in full dress uniform, and he'd clearly done his best to look professional.

"-I know that this is a great shock, and many of you will not believe my words, but there will be time for us to show you that we are trustworthy in the future." The Commander said, obviously continuing from something that they had not heard.

"Oh, he's really doing this?" Nathan asked, once his brain put the pieces together.

"...Yeah." Fairfire said as she recovered her breath.

"Our intentions are to establish communications with every nation on Remnant. Once this is done, we can begin looking to the future." Richard continued. "We have already spoken to some of your leaders, and we look forward to meeting those we haven't.

"Looks like we missed a bit." Yu pointed out.

"It wasn't anything important." Fairfire said.

"Remnant is very different from our worlds, and I hope that we can learn more about your planet in the future. And to those of you who are curious, I assure you, there will be plenty of time to learn about us as well." Richard said, leading into his conclusion. "For now, I would urge you not to worry, we're here to help."

The feed of Richard was replaced by a lady with lavender dye in her hair, who was obviously some sort of newscaster. "This message was given to us directly by the Council, with instructions to air it unedited. As unbelievable as it may seem, it would appear that this is all really happening."

"What's this mean for us?" Yu asked as she turned off the feed.

"The Commander's given us a warning that we're probably going to have action soon, either Grimm or Innies." Fairfire answered. "He didn't say where, but I'm guessing Atlas."

"About damn time. If I wanted to sit in the cafeteria eating burgers all day, I would've joined the Air Force." Yu responded happily.

"Grimm seem like a nice change of pace from the Covenant, they die a lot easier." Nathan added.

_Except those snake things, they can go to hell._ Nathan thought.

"Speaking of which, did you see that Ben fought a monster made of garbage?" Fairfire asked.

"He... what?" Yu asked, obviously not understanding.

Fairfire smiled. "Hand over the pad, I'll show you."

**Atlas Academy**

**October 6th, 2013 Standard Time, 2552**

The results of the Council vote had been a mixed bag, leaving Ironwood feeling unsure of both himself and his nation. On one hand, they had universally elected not to declare hostilities against the UNSC. That gave Ironwood a great deal of reassurance they were as concerned as he was, even if their exact motivations might have leaned towards self-preservation. On the other hand, they also voted with a sizable majority not to enforce the demands of the UNSC, and a statement on the floor of the Council Chambers summed it up perfectly.

"While the reparations they feel they are owed for the loss of their soldier's life are justifiable, their demands to see my staff tried in a court of law is far from it! Atlas is a sovereign nation of justice and integrity, and we should not bow to the demands of those who caused this debacle in the first place!" Jacques had said.

_As much as I hate to admit it, he's kind of right. Atlas is more than capable of administering justice within its own borders. _Ironwood thought.

He had no doubt that the aliens already heard the news, as the Council had gone public with the whole debacle only an hour after they'd finished their own announcement. The end result was that a lot of misinformation was being thrown around effectively everywhere, even the Atlesian Intelligence Agency was having trouble figuring out what was and wasn't accurate.

Ironwood's biggest concern was Grimm, who would be drawn in by all the confused anger and fear. In a fit of irony, the most vulnerable settlements furthest from Atlas were the safest, as they hadn't gotten the news yet. Unfortunately, Mantle was a very different story, and Grimm activity had increased by a significant degree. The Specialists had done a good job keeping the populace safe, and more Huntsmen and Huntresses were on the way from Argus.

He was given the challenging task of determining what Grimm incursions necessitated military deployments, and which didn't. A pack of Beowolves dangerously close to the wall around Mantle was a job for a Huntsmen, not an airship or a platoon of tanks. Whereas a murder of nevermores would be an opponent more suitable to a squadron of fighters.

_If their intention was to show their intentions are peaceful, they certainly could have done a better job!_ Ironwood thought bitterly.

**Authors Note: Many of you will likely point out a continuity error in the crew size and specifications of the Dominion in the future, and I assure I'm equally frustrated by this. The sad truth is that most of the Halopedia article for the ship's specifications are taken from unreliable sources, so I will be forced to make my own lore to supplement some of the gaps. (If you genuinely want a wall of text describing the backstory for this decision, PM me).**

**I also wanted to address speculation and confirm that I am not even remotely afraid of going off the beaten path when it comes to RWBY's plotline. Ultimately, this story is about leaders, factions, the people who fight for those factions, and how people from two very different universes interact.**

* * *

**Editor's note: Yo, it me. SardonicEffigy. You may know me from such classics as 'Bitches love Spaceships'... no?**

**Anyways, on to the real point. I wanted to address the largest complaint, or rather comment, in the comment section. The slower pace in comparison to the original. The original story had a lot of combat in the earlier chapters between the SDC and the UNSC and as you can see that hasn't been as prevalent thus far in the story. I wanted to explain why, without spoilers.**

**The slower pace is a result of a more solid and hammered out plotline behind the scenes. We are very determined to set up a coherent and well thought out story and in order to do that we have to plan everything out. We can't just shoot someone, we have to hint at it, then make you think it's gonna happen, then make you think it won't… right before we shoot them.**

**All this slow build is important for you all to learn the characters, the world being built, and the plot being unfurled. Read everything twice and pay attention.**

**That's all for this time. Please review and let us know what you think.**

**Sincerely SardonicEffigy.**


	22. Chapter 22

**UNSC Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 6th, 2032 Standard Time, 2552**

It was more than a little disheartening to read some of the headlines from Atlas. It didn't take long for the news to blame the UNSC's announcement for the uptick in Grimm activity. The negative coverage intensified immensely when they learned about their demands to see justice for the confrontation with the SDC. The public of Atlas was outraged, as the media was not afraid to spin the news into an attack on Atlesian sovereignty.

_Well, it could've gone worse._ Richard thought as he scrolled through the news from some of Remnant's other kingdoms, who seemed more neutral on the matter.

"Sir, the public Grimm alarm in Atlas just ticked up another notch." Lieutenant Gage reported, Richard had him monitoring the situation since Lieutenant Chen was sleeping.

"What's that put it at now?" Richard asked, trying to keep the irritation out of his voice, these Grimm were a monumentally effective annoyance.

"Level four, and no, I don't know what that means." Gage reported, his frustration evident. "The military is reassuring the public that the situation is under control."

"Keep monitoring the situation, let me know if anything changes." Richard instructed. "Gillespie, what's the status with the other kingdoms?"

"Grimm activity in Vale and Mistral is slightly above average, Grimm activity in Vacuo has actually decreased since we made our statement." The Ensign reported, his tone shifting towards surprise when he mentioned Vacuo. "Menagerie remains unchanged."

"Keep me informed." Richard said, before returning to his thinking. Atlas was obviously taking it the worst, but the other kingdoms seemed to have handled the news relatively well. Still, it was hardly reassuring to know that civilian lives had been placed in danger because of his actions. Obviously, they could offer to help fight the Grimm, but a gut feeling told him that might not be the best idea.

"Gillespie, get Bradford up here, regardless of what he's doing." Richard instructed.

"Aye Sir." Gillespie responded.

Bradford didn't take long, arriving on the bridge looking as exhausted as ever. Richard had thought he might have some sort of health issue, but Doctor Chase had said that Bradford had nothing wrong with him, he just looked tired.

"What can I do for you, Commander?" Bradford asked.

"The situation in Atlas is deteriorating, it's not drastic but it has the potential to get worse. I want your opinion, should we offer our assistance?" Richard replied.

"I don't see why not." Bradford stated. "If they don't want our help, they'll just decline."

"Don't." An irritated voice shouted from the other end of the bridge, Thomas quickly appearing next to them afterwards. "Do not do that!"

"Why not?" Bradford asked, still obviously a bit surprised by his interjection.

Thomas groaned with annoyance. "They think we're trying to infringe on their sovereignty. Look at this from their perspective, what would you think would happen if we touched down on their front lawn, even if it was to try and help, right after demanding they bend to our will."

Bradford paused before nodding. "I see your point, but that doesn't solve our problem."

"We could contact the General." Richard stated, mostly to himself.

"We would risk alienating our only contact in the Atlesian military, and he's already shaky." Thomas said skeptically.

"Well, what would you suggest we do?" Bradford asked.

"Nothing." Thomas simply stated.

"What?" Bradford asked, an eyebrow raised. "You do remember that we're supposed to protect civilians, right?"

"Of course I do, don't be ridiculous." Thomas retorted. "The Atlesian military can handle themselves, and their nation."

"What makes you so certain?" Richard asked, more surprised by the certainty in his voice than anything else.

"Their civilization wouldn't exist if they couldn't handle a few Grimm, and that's not even mentioning their combat capabilities." Thomas said. "I know Curie's report is taking a while, but you should know by now just what a person with aura can be capable of."

"I'm well aware," Richard confirmed. "But the Grimm have proved similarly unpredictable, the Geist that Sergeant Ben encountered proves that."

"And the people of Remnant are well accustomed to those unpredictable threats." Thomas countered. "They have their own defenses, their own countermeasures. They may not be as advanced as we are, but if they still exist alongside such hostile creatures, they must have some degree of resilience."

Richard paused, Thomas made a fair point. The perspective that the Atlesian citizens held was what had brought on the Grimm in the first place, placing faith in their optimism didn't seem like a good idea. Still, quietly leaving them to face off the Grimm on their own didn't resonate well with him.

"Well, just doing nothing isn't exactly a good option either." Bradford said.

"What do you want us to do, send them a goodie basket, maybe a little note saying that we're sorry that we exist and don't want our marines to be killed?" Thomas asked mockingly.

"We may not have good options to pick from here." Richard added, in what he hoped was a more reasonable counter-argument.

Bradford thought quietly for a moment. "How about instead of just offering military assistance, we ask what else we can do to help."

"That's… better. It comes across as us not thinking of military action." Thomas said. "Of course, the decision falls onto the Commander."

"Do it, and send it through something text-based, if he's trying to manage a defense I'd rather not interrupt his communications." Richard instructed.

"Aye Sir." Bradford replied, before heading towards the communications station.

Once he was out of the way Thomas spoke up. "I find it unlikely he'll accept any sort of assistance, from what little experience I have speaking to the man, he came across as rather prideful."

"I suppose it's more the principle of the thing," Richard replied. "I'm not sure what kind of assistance they'd need right now besides military, maybe medical?"

"I suppose that makes a degree of sense," Thomas admitted. "I don't even want to think about what kind of things they're doing to each other in the name of "healing".''

"Sir, we have a reply." Bradford said, quickly walking back towards the center of the bridge.

"That was fast." Richard observed.

"Worryingly so." Thomas added, less optimistically.

"It wasn't a very long message." Bradford explained. "He said that if we want to help, we'll retract our demands."

Richard frowned, he should have expected that. "Thomas, your thoughts?"

"I would advise that we consider it, but that we think this through a bit more heavily." Thomas said. "It's fairly evident that our demands came across as threatening to them, even if that wasn't our intention."

"That sounds like their problem." Bradford stated dryly.

_Oh boy, here we go again..._ Richard thought.

"I'll mark that down as example number one as to why you shouldn't be making major diplomatic decisions, because that was ruthlessly ignorant." Thomas said coldly. "If you want someone to take your side on a matter, you appeal to them and their culture, their values."

"So what, we just let these guys off the hook?" Bradford asked indignantly. "How'd that turn out with the innies on Far Isle?"

"We're out of our jurisdiction, this isn't our damn planet." Thomas pointed out.

"That doesn't excuse-" Bradford began, raising his voice.

_Alright, I'm ending this._ Richard thought, the frustration in his mind boiling over.

"Both of you, shut the hell up!" Richard said, raising his voice. "If you want to bicker and argue with one another, get the hell off my bridge! Once you're ready to act like Officers, and not children, feel free to come on back!"

Both of them seemed to be surprised by his outburst, but he was sick of their unending arguing. He briefly thought about how he might also be thinking irrationally, overburdened by all that he had on his plate, but he discarded that thought. He was a trained and experienced Officer, and protocol dictated that he was in the right on this matter.

"Sir, I-" Bradford began cautiously, Thomas wisely remained silent.

"Take five Lieutenant." Richard bluntly responded. "You too, Thomas, I'll sort this out."

"Yes, Sir." They both said, leaving the bridge.

Some of the other bridge staff were looking at him with unreadable expressions, including Gage and Williams. Gillespie seemed too busy with what he was doing to pay attention.

"Unless you'd like to tell me something dramatically important, get back to work." Richard bluntly ordered, which thankfully, they did.

Now left alone to solve the problem, he considered what his subordinates had said. Bradford made a decent point, murder could not be excused. At the same time, the unique circumstances of the encounter demanded scrutiny and a clinical perspective, with as little personal emotional input as possible. It wasn't lost on him that backing down and retracting his demands would be seen as a weakness to some, likely including the Schnee Dust Company. Still, pissing off the most powerful nation on what could potentially be their home for their foreseeable future probably wasn't the best idea.

_I suppose it all comes down to whether or not they would try and use that against us, and what that would entail._ Richard thought. _And we can't truly trust that they wouldn't, not with what we know about them._

He paused, focusing on his previous thought. Maybe that was the source of the issue, a lack of understanding, especially regarding motives. Maybe the guards had some sort of quiet justification for their hostility. Maybe the SDC were running a classified extraction of some dangerous material, something radiological maybe? Some sort of covert construction facility for classified government projects?

"Curie, do you have a moment?" Richard asked, knowing that most of her focus was elsewhere.

"I always do monsieur, what can I do?" She asked, her hologram forming into existence on the holotable.

"I'm authorizing a cyberwarfare intrusion, our target is the Schnee Dust Company's internal servers, or whatever they have as an equivalent." Richard stated. "Deniability is an utmost priority, can you make it happen?"

"Oui, it will only take a moment." She replied, her cheerful nature undiminished. "They'll never know I was there."

"I want a copy of everything they have, internal emails, personnel files, anything." Richard added. "Quarantine them and keep them aboard the Dominion."

"Of course, the small upload channel will prove an obstacle, but I have no doubt I can find a solution." Curie said, her focus obviously divided. "Are we looking for anything in particular?"

"Any attempt at offensive action against anything that isn't Grimm." Richard replied. "Maybe we aren't the only ones." he muttered quietly to himself.

"I'm sorry, can you please repeat that?" Curie asked, her voice indicating a genuine lack of understanding.

"I'm trying to predict what would happen if we retract our demands for a trial, whether it's a good idea to back down or not." Richard said, hoping to clarify his intentions. "But I'm also wondering if we're the only people who have been attacked by the SDC, and what kind of motivation they might have."

"It would appear aside from the odd clash with a lost Huntsman or the long, pre-existing clash with a terror organization, the answer is no." Curie reported. "That being said, I haven't actually read most of this data I'm collecting, so it's possible that I am wrong."

Richard nodded with understanding, she was very busy. "You don't need to worry about that, we'll handle reading all this crap. You just worry about getting it without getting caught."

"They'll never know I was here." Curie said with a smirk.

Even with most of her attention elsewhere, Curie worked fast, and before long she had copied effectively all of the Schnee Dust Company's data. She'd also kept them under a tight lockdown, so if there were any sort of computer virus in them, it would be useless.

"Thank you Curie, I'll take care of it from here." Richard said with a nod, watching as she vanished.

The data she collected had a lot of what he was expecting. Expense reports, personnel transfers, and enough corporate-speak to bury a good-sized freighter. His experience and training from ONI reminded him that the Devil was in the details, but the details could wait, for now.

As he had expected, the file he was looking for had a cryptic and generally unhelpful name, "restricted access". The inside lacked any sort of records, however, instead containing a list of location, categorized by role. He pressed the "mines" tab, wondering why something like this would be restricted.

**Menagerie**

**Belladonna Residence**

**October 6th, 2037 Standard Time, 2552**

Quiet nights were too far and few between, at least in Ghira's opinion. He'd had a position of leadership for some time, even before he had become the Chieftain of Menagerie. As such, he was used to being extremely busy, and learned to take advantage of every quiet moment he could get.

"Honey! There's someone on the phone, they want to talk to you!" he heard Kali shout from the next room over.

He gave a brief sigh. _Ah well, maybe this will be quick._

He quickly joined her in the living room, and found her sitting in one of the chairs, holding both the old landline phone of the house, as well as her scroll, which seemed to have some kind of book on it.

_I wonder if it's one of the books the UNSC gave us._ He thought, taking the phone from her and letting her get back to speaking. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Chieftain Belladonna?" A distinctly female voice asked.

"It is." he confirmed. "Who am I speaking with?"

"My name is Doctor Larsen, I'm with a surgeon working with the Kuana Regional Hospital. I'm calling in regards to a patient we recently had admitted into intensive care, we... believe he's with the UNSC."

Ghira immediately tensed up. He'd been told about the battle with the Geist earlier, but nobody had been injured. If there had been another incident, he didn't know about it.

"What happened?" He asked bluntly.

"Well, we don't have all of the details." Larsen warned. "A pair of geologists found him out in the desert, and they called for an airship to get him to us. He was in pretty bad shape when we found him, but we think he's stable as of now."

"Was he attacked?" Ghira asked.

"From what we've managed to get out of him, Grimm. He's extremely distrustful of us, and it took us some time to get him to let us help him." Larsen said. "He was badly dehydrated, and had a lot of wounds that indicated that he'd been fighting Grimm in hand to hand combat."

Ghira flinched slightly, even he had trouble doing that. Whoever had gone through all of that must've been tough. A thought occurred to him that hadn't previously. "Why are you telling me this? What about Patient-Doctor confidentiality?"

"He said he needs to report to his superiors, although he is a bit out of it at the moment. But we have conclusive evidence backing up his claim that he is indeed from, or at least working with, the UNSC." Larsen explained. "Seeing as you're our only way of communicating with them, we decided to call you."

Ghira nodded, even though she couldn't see him. "I understand, we'll let them know what happened, and see if we can get you into contact with them."

"That would be greatly appreciated, call us back if you have any updates." Larsen said. "Did you have any other questions?"

"I did, do you know his name?" Ghira asked. He was at least hoping to offer the UNSC some sort of information.

"Chief Warrant Officer Jorge, Service number... 052." She recited from memory. "He hasn't really given us much beyond that."

"Thank you, I'll get back to you shortly." Ghira said, placing the phone back into its holder.

"Bad news?" Kali guessed, looking sympathetic.

"One of the alien soldiers is in the hospital." Ghira reported.

"Oh dear..." Kali said, her expression indicating genuine concern.

_So much for a quiet night._ He thought sadly.

**The Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 6th, 2045 Standard Time, 2552**

Richard looked at his datapad with a look of concern and shock, his grip tightened, and he could feel a bead of sweat liberate itself onto his forehead. He swiped through image after image, page after page, hoping that he would see something that would indicate none of this was real.

_This... this is so much worse than anything I could have anticipated._ Richard thought, his jaw slightly slack as he struggled to wrap his mind around what he was seeing.

Slavery was an ancient concept, one that practically everyone knew about. And yet, he'd never seen it in practice, never seen the results with his own eyes, even if it was just pictures he was looking at. It was one of those things that a lot of people just didn't think about, not since the very first off-world colonization. The only people who even considered practicing it were desperate Innies.

He'd seen plenty of atrocities in his life, the Covenant's ruthlessness knew no bounds. But seeing a human do some of the things that he was looking at was a whole different story. Branding, rape, outright murder, all apparently commonplace under the logo of the SDC.

_What the hell is this?_ Richard thought. _How do you even justify something like this to yourself? How do you take part in this?_

The shock and sadness began to dissipate from his body, overpowered by a wave of familiar anger and determination that began to fuel his body. He could feel his heartbeat, thumping rhythmically along like the report of a semi-automatic rifle. He felt the beginnings of a plan form in his mind, and it did not involve a polite response.

"Curie, get Bradford up here, now!" Richard snapped, not caring how his tone was taken.

"Aye Sir!" Curie quickly responded, she could recognize the shift in his tone, everyone on the bridge could. The shift in the atmosphere was dramatic, the chatter of the bridge stopped almost instantly.

But there was more to do, he grabbed the intercom from his chair and keyed it. "This is the Commander. All hands, set condition three throughout the ship. I repeat, set condition three throughout the ship."

The ship had previously been at condition four, the most relaxed posture a warship could have. Condition three indicated a wartime cruise, usually in dangerous space. While they were in no danger in orbit, he needed the crew to be on their toes.

As he placed the intercom back into its holder, Curie interjected, her voice wary. "Sir, if I may..."

"Make it quick." Richard replied with a nod. "We're about to be very busy."

"Is this… really... oh... oh my." Curie said, her expression shifting to one of shock. "I... I no longer wish to make my statement. I have made myself up to date on the situation."

"Sir, what the hell is going on?!" Bradford asked, his loud footsteps giving his presence away before his voice did.

Richard stood up and handed over his datapad. "We have conclusive evidence that the Schnee Dust Company is running a slaving operation. The specifics are... messy, see for yourself."

Bradford scrolled through some of the images, before his stony expression intensified. "Jesus..."

"We are intervening." Richard bluntly stated. "One way or another, this ends. We are not going to stand by and watch this happen."

A quick side glance to the rest of his bridge crew confirmed they were all looking at him, all of them seemed to still be too surprised to come to their own conclusions.

His Executive Officer nodded. "What's the plan?"

"Prep Zulu Company for combat." Richard replied. "I want our Hornets, Sabres, and dropships ready for missions on a five-minute notice, prepare support craft as you deem necessary."

"Aye, Sir!" Bradford said with a small nod of respect.

"And make sure those Sabres are loaded with interception configuration!" Richard ordered, before turning his attention to the communications station. "Ensign Gillespie, get me the General. We will give him exactly one chance to explain this, or to offer his own solution." He paused for a moment. "Curie… make sure those pictures are classified, officers only, we don't need the crew seeing that."

"Aye Sir." Curie said, a solemn tone in her voice.

"With pleasure, Sir." Gillespie said after a moment, before making his preparations.

_So much for backing down, this… this is unacceptable._ Richard thought, almost disappointed that it looked like things were going to result in a fight after all. But then he thought about what he'd seen, what those images entailed, and all of the sudden his sympathy vanished. The SDC were monsters and as such, they would be dealt with in a similar manner.

"Sir, I'm getting a priority one communication from Brushfire Actual." Gillespie rapidly followed up.

"Bad timing... patch him through." Richard sighed, walking over to the operations station, where he could see Lieutenant Clark's face.

"Sir, we have a development on the ground." Clark reported.

"It can't be worse than what we have up here, go ahead." Richard said, gesturing him to continue.

"On the contrary, it's the best damn news I've heard all week." Clark replied. "We just got a call from the local hospital, they found us a second Spartan."


	23. Chapter 23

**Menagerie**

**Kuana Regional Hospital**

**October 6th, 2102 Standard Time, 2552**

Ben had been climbing into the cargo compartment of the Darter when Lieutenant Clark frantically radioed him to stay. When he relayed what had happened, Ben felt more confused than surprised. He had absolutely no idea how another Spartan got here, let alone one whose designation implied they were a Spartan II.

The Lieutenant had requested that Ben join him, and both he and Curie quickly agreed, their curiosity overbearing any second thoughts. Quietly, Ben was cautious, it seemed too good to be true. But if they were being led into a trap, it was a well-prepared plan.

When he and Clark arrived at the civilian hospital, they found the waiting room was quite crowded. Ben didn't have any experience with a civilian hospital, but they seemed more or less the same to a military one, at least at a glance. The first major difference was a sign stating that "weapons are prohibited on the premises" on the entrance, but the person waiting for them had waved them in regardless.

"Huntsmen and Huntresses typically hold onto their equipment, just keep your guns holstered and safetied." He had said, as if it were a common occurrence, although his demeanor did suggest he was a bit uncomfortable. "I'll go check up with the doctor, see if they can handle visitors. Wait here for just one moment."

While they waited, he took in his surroundings. It stood out to him just how out of place he was. He stood a full head above everyone else in the room, and his armor made him stand out even more. He didn't even consider sitting on the wooden benches, as he was all but certain they would break under the weight of his armor. The Lieutenant didn't seem to be concerned with the confused expressions they received, as he was doing something on his datapad, but he also stood out, especially since he was wearing marine BDUs, as well as the associated armor and helmet.

_I've always appreciated the CH252's, it seems the Lieutenant also has an appreciation for function over form._ Ben thought, taking in everything there was to see in the room.

The decorations matched Menagerie's vaguely pacific-islander inspired style that they seemed to have naturally developed. But Ben was more focused on the people, it seemed like every time he went somewhere new, he encountered at least one new type of faunus. But all he saw this time was people, normal everyday civilians, who were moderately concerned about the two weirdly dressed spacemen sharing the room with them.

"I don't believe I've stood out more." Ben quietly mentioned to Curie, who gave an uncharacteristic, almost forced laugh in response.

"I don't know if that's true, we were quite out of place on the boardwalk." Curie replied, her voice indicating that she was distracted.

"Are you alright?" He asked, hoping that the concern in his voice didn't come across as pandering.

"I'm fine." Curie replied, unconvincingly. "It's just... the news from the Dominion is a bit disheartening, my fragment sent me a warning that it was going to be bad but..."

"One problem at a time Curie." Ben said. "The Commander will try diplomacy with Atlas, and if that doesn't work, we'll do what we're trained to do."

"You're right, I'll focus on the task at hand." Curie said after a moment. "Thank you, Ben."

"No problem at all." Ben replied.

"Lieutenant... Clark?" A receptionist tentatively prompted, snapping him out of his conversation.

"Present." Clark announced, raising his hand and walking over to the man's desk. "What's the condition of our man?"

"He's stable, the Doctor says he can take visitors, at least for a few minutes." The receptionist said. "The Doctor would also like to speak with one of you, especially if you intend to transfer him to your ship for further treatment."

"Excellent, can you take us to him?" Clark asked.

"I'll handle that." A woman said from behind both of them. Ben turned and saw a faunus woman in medical attire, with a pair of extremely unusual bright green eyes. They seemed to turn independently in their sockets, and everything except for the central portion of the eye was covered in skin. It was a bit odd, but compared to the alien species of the Covenant, it was nothing.

_They look vaguely reptilian, but I wouldn't be able to guess what kind. I wonder how well she actually sees things. _Ben thought.

"My name is Doctor Larsen, you're the Lieutenant, right?" she continued.

"I am, and this is Sergeant Ben, another Spartan." Clark said, gesturing towards Ben.

Larsen looked at the Lieutenant, before quickly switching both of her eyes to look at Ben, examining every detail of him from top to bottom. Her eyes did not move in unison, in fact, it seemed like she had her left eye start at his feet while her right eye started with his head. It was obvious she was trying to discern something by her expression, but Ben couldn't figure out what.

"Um, yes doctor?" Ben prompted, trying to snap her out of her silent staring.

"It's nothing, please follow me." she said.

As they began walking, the doctor kept speaking, answering their questions before they even got a chance to ask them. "He was discovered by a pair of geologists out in the desert, far beyond safe traveling limits. He's suffered from severe lacerations and was badly dehydrated. The Geologists managed to call for an airship to get him here, where we've been treating him to the best of our ability. We discovered he also had a ruptured liver, which he had apparently treated with some sort of foam."

"Did he say anything, or mention how he got out there?" Clark asked, interrupting her rambling.

"He has said things, in fact, he's been murmuring in his sleep, a lot." Larsen awkwardly stated. "That being said, he's rather delusional, likely due to dehydration. He did mention he'd been "out there" for at least a week, but if that was true, he should be dead."

Ben internally felt a hint of sympathy. Even Spartan augmentations couldn't do much to fix just how critical water is to the human body, and he'd experienced dehydration at several points in his life. Coupled with internal organ damage and wounds from Grimm, he likely would've lost a lot of blood.

"Well, he might've found something to help him survive." Clark suggested.

"That was our best guess, as he was carrying a lot of equipment with him." Larsen confirmed. "We've stored what he had off the hospital grounds, we were worried someone might try to operate it."

"Precaution is admirable." Ben simply stated. "It creates less problems to fix later."

"I couldn't agree more." Larsen said with a nod. "Ah, we're here."

He'd barely been paying attention to his surroundings, but they'd walked through what must have been most of the building. A sign on the wall told him that they were in the Intensive Care Ward.

"I trust you have bedside manner where you come from?" Larsen asked, holding her hand on the doorknob.

"Of course ma'am." Clark said with a respectful nod. "We're not barbarians."

"Good, follow me." she said with a nod, opening the door and entering.

Any doubt that Ben had about Jorge vanished the instant he saw the man lying in the hospital bed, his stature alone confirmed he'd been extensively augmented. He was apparently an older man, with slightly unkempt facial hair, and enough scars to demonstrate his experience. The bandages wrapped around much of his body made identifying more features difficult, as many of them were wrapped around his head.

He'd honestly doubted that the doctors would've managed to remove his armor, but apparently, they had, and even managed to get him into a hospital gown. As soon as he saw Ben and Clark, he blinked several times, as if trying to figure out if he was seeing things right.

"Nem értem..." Jorge muttered, barely audible enough for Ben to hear, even with his heightened senses. Nobody else seemed to have heard it, and Ben didn't understand what it meant.

"Jorge, these men are here to see you." Doctor Larsen said in a very calm, friendly voice.

"I can see that." Jorge said, his tone indicating he was slightly insulted. "Thank you, ma'am."

"No problem at all." Larsen awkwardly replied, keeping her tone calm as she took a step back.

_I wonder what's got her so worried? It could just be that Jorge is a naturally intimidating man._ Ben hypothesized.

Jorge quickly shifted his focus to Ben, and gained a quizzical look. "I wasn't expecting a Spartan, what's your name?"

"Sergeant Ben, G-021." Ben responded.

"And I'm Lieutenant Clark." He quickly added.

"G-021?" He questioned, subtly straightening up his posture, recognizing he was in the presence of an officer. "Nevermind, we'll have to talk about that later. It's nice to see some friendlies for a change."

_Yeah, definitely a Spartan. _Ben thought, feeling a hint of admiration.

"Well, it's good to see that you are alive and well." Clark said dryly. "The Doctor here has filled us in a bit, but I was hoping that now that we have a chance to speak with you personally, you can help clear a few things up."

"I'll do my best, but don't depend on it, my memory is a bit fuzzy, Sir." Jorge replied with a nod. "But if I can ask a question first, where are we?"

"Kuana regional hospital, on a col-" Clark began, but interrupted himself by clearing his throat. "-on a planet called Remnant."

Ben noticed Doctor Larsen give Clark a curious look with one of her eyes, but she stayed silent.

Jorge nodded, Clark's distinction hadn't gone unnoticed. "Last I remember, I was on Reach. That raises a hell of a lot more questions than it answers."

Ben grimaced behind his helmet, if he was on Reach, his story already didn't bode well. "What were you doing on Reach?"

"Manually firing a jury-rigged Slipspace bomb." Jorge stated, without even the slightest inclination that he was being anything but totally honest.

Clark was still digesting what Jorge had said when Ben gave his confused response. "You... what?"

"A Slipspace drive intentionally modified to malfunction, which it did." Jorge repeated without further detail.

"That's impossible." Ben deadpanned. "It would be a miracle if you had remains to return home at all, the radiation alone-"

"Sergeant!" Doctor Larsen prompted with a surprising degree of authority.

"Right, sorry ma'am." Ben said, noticing Jorge discreetly roll his eyes. Curie gave a brief giggle at his expense.

_With everything I've learned about these guys, I'm pretty confident I don't have to worry about hurting their feelings._ Ben thought. "But, you somehow managed to survive?"

"I guess so." Jorge said with a half-hearted shrug. "Truth be told, I haven't been thinking about it much. The local wildlife has been keeping me too busy."

"Grimm." Doctor Larsen muttered.

"Yeah, we've met em' too." Ben said. "Of course, we had weapons."

"So did I, but I understand what you mean." Jorge replied with a nod. "I'm lucky that I landed near the wreckage, managed to pick out some leftovers."

"Wreckage? If I recall correctly, we haven't detected any sort of spacecraft, or wreckage of one." Clark questioned, getting another curious look from the doctor.

_I'm worried she'll overhear something that she shouldn't. _Ben thought.

"It's not much, a damaged Pelican and a few chunks of hull from a Covenant Corvette, I can see how you could have missed it." Jorge explained. "If you're hoping to salvage it, don't get your hopes up. I landed in the middle of a sandstorm, it's probably buried."

"Shame, we could use the extra bird." Ben said, mostly to himself.

"Indeed, but we'll make do with what we have." Clark concluded. "Do you have anything else that's critical to report?"

Jorge took a deep breath before continuing. "When the Slipspace drive detonated, a fraction of one of Reach's defense A.I's was pulled along in my armor. It seems that she took some damage on the way, because she's in hibernation, but she said that she had some critical information to get to HIGHCOM."

"Interesting" Curie mumbled, speaking only to Ben. "If I could talk to her, maybe she could help explain how Jorge got here."

"Ma'am, where's his equipment?" Ben asked, turning his attention towards Larsen.

"Like I said, off of the hospital grounds, under the protection of a Huntress and some police officers." Larsen said. "We recognized how dangerous it could be if it was stolen, so we made efforts to keep it safe."

"In the right hands, that armor could be more dangerous than a nuke." Jorge warned, a statement with which Ben quietly agreed. "It's a good thing you're being cautious."

"A nuke?" Larsen asked, her lack of knowledge regarding the word being made obvious by her difficulty pronouncing it.

"A nuclear explosive." Jorge clarified, not understanding how she could be confused. "Don't you know what those are?"

"Jorge... there's a few things you should know." Ben cautiously began.

"We'll try to bring you up to speed, but... we have a lot of bad news." Clark added.

They quickly brought Jorge up to speed to the best of their ability, telling him about what had happened to the Dominion and themselves when they had tried to leave Onyx. Ben was forced to omit some bits of sensitive information due to the doctor's presence, doing his best to keep things intentionally vague, whilst also making sure that Jorge knew everything critical. Clark also did his best to fill in where he could, and Curie was able to offer a few specifics that even he didn't know about.

"That's... a hell of a story." Jorge said, once Ben and Clark had finished. "I'll admit, I have trouble believing some of it."

"We all do." Ben simply replied.

"We're still trying to figure a lot of things out about this place, not to mention how we're going to find a way home, if there is one." Clark said, his tone souring toward the end of his statement. Ben decided not to voice his own concerns on the matter.

"So we're stuck here?" Jorge asked, before turning his attention to the Doctor. "Not that you all haven't been very nice of course..."

Doctor Larsen waved him off. "It's a hospital, not a hotel. I can understand wanting to leave, especially given some of your... rougher experiences."

Ben raised an eyebrow at that. "Rougher?"

"It's nothing important, they just had some difficulties with... me specifically." Jorge said, doing his best to brush it off, which was enough to make Ben worried.

"Yeah, about that." Larsen began awkwardly. "We discovered some alarming things about his biology while we were operating on him, he has assured us they are not cause for alarm."

_His augmentations._ Ben realized. "They aren't."

"That's reassuring." she said, although Ben couldn't quite determine if she was being genuine or not. "Now, I will need you to sign some release forms is you're going to take Jorge back to your base."

"We'll be taking him aboard the Dominion." Clark confirmed, before turning to Ben. "I'll take care of the paperwork. Could you go check on his armor, make sure that everything is as it should be?"

"Yes, Sir." Ben said. "I'll let Curie have a look at it too, see if she can wake up the A.I from Reach."

"Good idea." Clark replied.

"If you head back to the lobby, one of the staff should be able to let you know where we're keeping it. I'm not personally privy to that information, I have other concerns." Doctor Larsen offered.

"Thank you Doctor." Ben said.

"Sergeant." Jorge interjected, capturing his attention. "It wasn't in the best shape, don't be surprised if you find some damage."

"I'll keep that in mind." Ben said, before making his exit.

**UNSC Dominion**

**Bridge**

**October 6th, 2102 Standard Time, 2552**

Richard stood at the comms station on the Bridge, listening as the General tried to make his defense. He'd given Ironwood everything, totally unedited, and made his intentions to take action clear.

"Commander, I urge you, let's think about this with clear heads..." General Ironwood calmly said.

"Oh I assure you, I am treating this as calmly as it deserves to be treated." Richard coldly replied. "You're looking at the same thing I am, right?"

"I agree, it's detestable." Ironwood replied, his empathy for Richard obvious. "But we have laws for this, legal channels. We are more than capable of putting a stop to this ourselves."

"Can you? Can I trust you?" Richard quietly muttered, just loud enough to be heard. He followed his silence with a slammed fist on the metal exterior of the computer. "We have identified no fewer than forty-seven locations like this! How the hell did this go unnoticed?!"

"I can't say, but I assure you had we known we would have taken action years ago! We didn't know anything about this." Ironwood said. His facial expression carried a great deal of shame along with it.

_Apparently he has as much faith in his police force as we do now._ Richard thought, coldly amused. "Oh I know that. If I had reason to suspect you did, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Now, I called you based on the admittedly unlikely hope that you could somehow, in any way, justify what you and I are looking at."

When they had given Ironwood the SDC files, he had warned Richard not to release them in their entirety, as the resulting Grimm attacks from the negative emotions would be catastrophic. Richard had reluctantly agreed, although he realized that meant that he would need to tread carefully with what information he released in the future.

"As much as I wish I could, I'm afraid that I cannot." Ironwood said. "But what I can do is assure you that Atlas Academy and it's military are more than capable of dealing with this. We can arrest them-"

"And what would you have us do, sit back and watch as the bastards all get minimal sentences?!" Richard asked rhetorically. "You know damn well he couldn't have gotten away with this without the support of your government! Hell, you don't have to take my word for it, look at this!"

He brought up a file for them to both see, a list of contacts in the Atlesian Police Force. It wasn't a small list either, and it was far from the only list of contacts the Company had.

_I'll have to remember that, these bastards don't get away with this either._ Richard thought.

"I... we can deal with this, together. I want to stop this just as much as you do." Ironwood buckled for a moment, but his stoicism was unyielding. "But we aren't going to do this without level heads, without thinking clearly."

"Level heads..." Richard muttered aloud, but found himself unable to pick out faults in the General's offer. "Go ahead General, I'm listening."

"If you truly insist on taking action against the SDC's private security, I'm not sure if I can stop you, even if I wanted to." Ironwood said, obviously unhappy with what he was saying. "As much as it pains me to say, I can't spare the men to act on this. With the spike in Grimm activity, everything we have is needed to defend Atlas and Mantle…"

Richard nodded, he didn't like it but he nodded nonetheless. He had seen the reports and Atlas was not in the best of places at the moment. They had been forced to call in troops from a number of their bases just to man their walls.

"And the bureaucracy is necessary, we cannot do away with the Due Process, even for this, although this will certainly make the ensuing trails easier." Ironwood said, gesturing at the mass of criminal evidence he had. "I will not allow a battle to take place within Atlas's boundaries."

Richard opened his mouth to retaliate, but stopped, acknowledging his specific wording. The boundaries of Atlas might have different meanings, based on whether Ironwood was referencing the Kingdom, or the City.

"These facilities, these Mines..." he began, guttural growling the final word. "They aren't within your city."

"Indeed they aren't." Ironwood said with a nod of affirmation. "I will not jeopardize Atlas or Mantle by drawing away soldiers and Huntsmen. Not to fight slavers, or to defend them, and that means my soldiers stay to defend the Kingdom."

Richard was starting to see where he was going with this. "Alright General, I see your point. We'll take down the mines, you take down the Bureaucrats."

"It's more complicated than that." Ironwood pointed out. "I may have two seats on the Council, but I'll still be replaced if we can't convince the public that we're the good guys. If we don't have public support, we've already lost."

Richard quietly cursed, although his mind had calmed, his anger had been replaced with frustration. "I would have said release those files, but I'm not sure if I have enough nukes to kill all of the Grimm on your planet."

"I... we all wish you did." Ironwood said sympathetically, albeit with a hint of curiosity.

_I wonder if that sentiment would change if he knew what a nuke was. _Richard thought. "Ok General, what's your plan?"

"Give me time, and I'll try to gather what support I can." Ironwood requested. "I can't promise you total legal authority within our borders, but I can certainly offer you some help."

"And if we should fail to bring the SDC down, it is us the public will be mad at." Richard couldn't help but be impressed with the plan. "Either the SDC or the UNSC will be ruined by this war, and Atlas will come out on top either way."

Ironwood looked at the camera a moment before sighing. "I will work behind the scenes to gain all the support I can and stop the politicians from bring Atlas into another war." Richard appreciated the honesty. "Once you've shown the world what the SDC, what Jacques Schnee, has done I will be able to move against him without upsetting the people. If anything this will help give the people hope."

"In the meantime you allow two potential enemies to fight one another_." _Richard silently finished, It was a rather blatant play on both sides, but not one Richard could find himself to condemn. The General was giving them as much leeway as he could get away with. A thought occurred to Richard, one that should've came up sooner, but he had overlooked in his anger. "You're putting an awful lot of faith in us."

"Yes, I am." Ironwood sighed once more. "Your UNSC could make a difference in the world. With you by our side, we might actually stand a chance at victory. But that won't come without trust." Ironwood pointed out. "I don't know what that ship of yours is capable of, but I've read every report you've released about the Covenant and what I've seen… disturbs me to say the least. The weapons at your disposal… I would condemn them if we didn't need them."

Richard hesitated for a moment. "The primary weapons of this Frigate could rip your floating city to ribbons, or burn it to ash." Richard kept his face as neutral as he could manage. "I would never consider using any weapon of mass destruction against a predominantly civilian target, but... well I believe you get the idea."

He felt sick thinking about the threat. Hopefully the General wouldn't ever feel the need to test his resolve.

"I see…" The General sighed. "You can understand why that might not fill me with confidence. Don't make me regret trusting you, Commander."

"You won't." Richard reassured.

"We'll certainly see won't we." Ironwood bluntly responded. "Best of luck with your war, Commander."

The screen faded black a moment later. Richard turned to his XO, there was work to be done.


	24. Chapter 24

**Mantle**

**Alliman Surface Excavation, Site 2, 234 kilometers from Atlas**

**October 7th, 0834 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

Mantle was cold by its very nature, with deep snow almost always blanketing the ground. It didn't help that most of the days in the Northern regions only got a scant amount of constant light during the winter months, making it seem as if it was always twilight. While a beautiful phenomenon for tourists, those who lived on the continent frequently thought otherwise, with them finding the unchanging terrain and scenery to be boring, even depressing.

On a watchtower outside of the Alliman Surface Mines, a lone, very bored guard stood watch. Normally it was a relatively exciting job, with the occasional Grimm incursion to keep things interesting. He wasn't exactly enthusiastic about his duty, caring more about his next paycheck and nap than whatever the hell meant he was here instead of back in Atlas. But he wasn't a newcomer to this line of work, which made him even more curious about the lack of Grimm.

_I guess the managers aren't pushing the workers today._ He thought, somewhat thankful for the respite. In his opinion, boredom was always preferable to danger.

He was startled by an electronic crackle coming from his radio, followed by a barely audible mumbling.

_Ugh, these idiots._ He thought, taking the radio off of his shoulder pad and keying the transmitter. "Try the gain, numbnuts."

"Go fuck yourself, Potter." A grumpy response came, starting as a barely audible mumble but eventually becoming understandable. "Better?"

He gave a brief chuckle before responding. "Yeah, I hear ya. What's up?"

"Quill spotted a handful of unknowns a few hundred yards out, too far for details, but he thinks they might be runners or Grimm. Either way, sweep your sectors and terminate as necessary." The response said.

_Again? If he's high on duty again I'll throw him off of his damn post. _He thought bitterly, but kept his tone professional. "Understood, standby."

He placed his radio back into its pocket, before running a quick examination on the searchlight that was mounted to the tower. After a moment of making sure that it was functional, he switched it on, keeping one eye closed so that it would stay accustomed to the darkness. A quick sweep across the tundra confirmed what he had suspected, false alarm.

He drew his radio again, with a bit of grumpiness in his movement. "Potter here, false alarm. Can someone tell Quill's dumb ass to-"

He stopped mid-sentence, his eyes focusing on something he had only just noticed. It was a tiny, barely visible black dot, hovering high in the sky, barely visible. Grimm statically hovering was unusual, most of them had to keep moving to stay in the air.

"Belay that, possible airborne target in the distance, does Radar show anything, over?" He questioned, a slight hint of worry in his voice.

_Please don't be Nevermores..._ he thought, those things were the absolute worst.

"Wait one." The response came, a tense moment of silence passed before a follow-up reply came. "Negative Potter, no bogies detected."

"Well that doesn't make any-" Potter began, but was interrupted by a trio of loud popping sounds in the distance, followed by several blinding, bright lights appearing in the sky, shining for only a few seconds before vanishing. Their light reflected off of the snow, making the blinding effect even worse. His vision had been completely thrown off, and something about the sudden light made him feel slightly nauseous.

_Flares. _He realized after a split-second. _What's happening?_

Before he could even express his shock, a pair of high-velocity sniper rifle rounds slammed into his forehead. His aura did what it could to stop the devastating projectiles, but his aura had never been the strongest, nor had he been well trained on how to use it. As he recoiled from the hits, a third round slammed into his head, unable to hold back any more force, his aura shattered, and the bullet plowed through his skull with little effort.

**Meanwhile**

_That last one got him. _Nathan thought as he reloaded, gunsmoke still emerging from the suppressor on the end of his sniper rifle barrel, the snow surrounding it melting from the heat. _These guys are freaking tough._

"Target down." He reported. "Be advised, hostiles are heavily armoured."

"Battlemage, this is Onyx, enemy lookout neutralized, working on the Radar now." Meadows reported from behind him, keeping one hand on the rangefinder mounted to his helmet.

"Copy that, keep us posted." Fairfire's reply came over the radio.

"_Battlemage", of course she'd pick something badass like that, then leave us with the generic callsign. _Nathan sighed.

"Shit, Nathan, you always get to bring these things? Maybe I should've been a sniper." Yu idly commented as she reloaded her own rifle.

"Cut the chatter." Meadows ordered as he acquired their next target with his rangefinders. "Adjust your target, Radar position is on the top of the hill, bearing three-two-three, range is eleven-hundred meters, account for incline."

The enemy had some surprisingly sophisticated fortifications, most likely to protect against Grimm. But the biggest concern for their airborne comrades was a pair of old-fashioned rapid-fire flak cannons located deeper in the compound, which intel had deemed to be a possible threat to their birds. Knocking out the guns wasn't possible from extreme range, since it was protected by a series of hills surrounding the mine, but it was reliant on a Radar system in order to acquire its targets. So far, their aircraft's advanced designs had proven sufficient to avoid detection, but they weren't taking any unnecessary chances.

Nathan and Yu adjusted their aim, taking into account the wind, air resistance, planet's spin, and Remnant's slightly lower than average gravity. The ballistics CPU mounted inside of his scope helped dramatically and coordinated with his helmet to show him exactly where he needed to shoot. It was far from perfect, but it helped immensely for such a long shot.

"Shot ready." Nathan called out, followed quickly by Yu, who repeated his exact words.

"Fire." Meadows ordered, prompting both of the snipers to fire until their magazines ran dry.

The SRS99 series of rifles had originally been envisioned as an anti-material weapon, designed to destroy enemy emplacements and equipment, as well as lightly armored vehicles. Their effectiveness against living targets had given them a more lethal reputation, but they performed their job against non-living objects just as well. Eight armor piercing projectiles rendered the Radar's antenna inoperable in mere seconds.

"Onyx to Battlemage, enemy guns are blind, proceed with caution." Meadows reported over his commlink.

"Battlemage copies all, reposition to the overlook Gamma on the double and keep your eyes peeled for any other targets." Fairfire responded, her voice filled with an unusual seriousness that she only truly broke out during battle.

"You heard the lady, pack your bags, we're moving out." Meadows said, placing his rangefinders back on top of his helmet and remounting the M13 Lynx that they had landed with, manning the M41 LAAG on the back.

Officially a snowmobile, the Lynx was effectively just a warthog with lightweight treads instead of wheels, designed for extreme traction to maneuver in the extremely snowy environments that even a Warthog couldn't operate in.

Nathan popped open the gullwing door to the navigator's seat and climbed in, he noticed that Yu was having some issues storing her sniper rifle in the cabin, and took the liberty of grabbing onto the barrel and storing it alongside his own for her while she climbed into the driver's seat.

"Thanks, damn thing is taller than I am!" Yu commented.

"Well it's not about the length, it's about how you use it." Nathan slyly replied.

"Shut up!" She said with a chuckle, keying the engine.

"Nathan." Meadows grumbled. "Keep a straight face, and remember why we're here."

"Don't hate a man for trying to lighten the mood, Sergeant." Nathan realized with a flinch, making an effort to straighten up his mind.

"Gamma's down the ridge, try to keep off of the edge, we really don't want to test this thing's roll cage." Nathan said.

Yu responded by gunning the engine, taking them on the way to their next objective.

**Meanwhile**

Ben stood in the troop bay of the Pelican, holding onto the netting of the overhead cargo holds to give himself a bit of extra stability. Staff Sergeant Fairfire, as well as all of the marines, were sitting in the seats, doing last minute equipment inspections as they prepared for touchdown. Standing made him all the more aware of the turbulent flight of the Pelicans, caused by their rapid descent.

"Marines, I ain't gonna lie to you, you're about to see some fucked-up stuff." Fairfire began, prompting Ben and the rest of the marines to shift their attention. "I'm sure you've all read the briefings, but that doesn't mean you aren't gonna find something you aren't ready for. Just keep your mind on the mission, and the ROE in the back of your head."

Ben could almost feel her facial expression shift into one of dissatisfaction at the lack of a response, even through her visor. "Sound off like you've still got ears, Marines!"

The cabin momentarily filled with a chorus of "Sir, yes Sir", before becoming silent again just as quickly. Ben could sense the tension in the air, and found it hard not to empathize with the Marines.

_When I decided to be a Spartan, I wanted to fight monsters. _Ben thought doubtfully. _I just didn't expect it to metaphorical monsters._

"You all set Curie?" Ben privately asked her, she'd come along for the mission entirely.

"Ready and eager." Curie said, with a faint hint of anger. "Your suit's updated firmware that I copied from Jorge's armor is fully functional, power surplus is manageable."

Ben nodded. He'd only gotten to speak to Jorge briefly after he'd been brought aboard the Dominion, although he had donated the updated Mjolnir Mark V firmware that hadn't reached them before they had left. "I know he's not happy about being left behind, so let's knock some heads together for him."

"Gladly." Curie heartily agreed.

"Battlemage, this is Fireball, thirty seconds till we hit the deck." the pilot warned. "LZ looks clear from up here."

"Roger that." Fairfire quickly acknowledged, before turning her attention once again towards the Marines. "Lock and load Gentlemen, let's give them an introduction to the Corps!"

"Oorah!" A brief chorus of voices sounded. Ben didn't join in, but he did give a nod of approval that did not go unnoticed by the other marines.

Ben gave his own weapons a quick inspection. He'd elected to bring an M319 grenade launcher with both stun and high-explosive dual-purpose rounds, that way he could retain the ability to neutralize heavy fortifications, whilst also having a weapon that would pose less of a threat to the civilians they intended to rescue. He also brought a BR55 Battle Rifle, a solid all-purpose weapon that was good for almost every situation, even if his lacked the heavy barrel of the newest model, he was confident that he could handle the recoil.

"Ten seconds!" Fireball called out.

Ben adjusted his posture, his position meant that he would be the first one out of the door, and he didn't intend on making everyone behind him wait. The Pelican gave one final lurch as the dropship completed its rapid descent, before coming to a relative halt just above the ground.

"Touchdown, hit it Marines!" Fireball called out, the excitement creeping into her voice.

The hatch popped a moment later, revealing the M808B Scorpion hanging from the magnetic mount on the Pelican's rear. The Scorpion dropped first, and as was standard procedure, the tanker immediately put the vehicle into reverse to make room for the infantry. As soon as the Scorpion was out of the way, Ben made a short jump onto the snowy ground.

He sunk into the deep snow almost immediately, which he had expected, he was an extremely heavy object relative to his surface area with the ground. The resulting snow went up to his shins, and would be a serious obstruction to movement, especially for the Marines.

_At least they haven't started shooting at us yet._ Ben thought, which prompted a far more cautious line of mental questioning. _Why haven't they started shooting at us yet?_

Thankfully the Scorpion tank, along with its two siblings, had plenty of surface area to spread it's massive weight across. They quickly moved around the Pelicans, giving them room to unload their marines while also providing cover for the still vulnerable Pelicans. As soon as everyone was unloaded, the Pelicans lifted off, quickly gaining attitude before retreating to a safe distance.

"Everyone, move up! Get to that fence!" Fairfire ordered over the radio. The marine squad leaders echoed her orders, while Ben flicked his status light to green to confirm his own compliance. His own standing orders were to protect the tanks and to help weaken the enemy strongpoints from a distance with his launcher.

The outermost layer of the enemy defenses consisted of a large chain-link fence topped with razor wire. Placed in positions around the fence were several small watchtowers, although the only one that was directly in the way of their advance had already been cleared by the rest of Onyx team. Behind the fence was a hill with a shallow incline, with an array of emplacements defending the ridge, although none of them had opened fire, and Ben couldn't see anyone inside of them.

"The enemy defenses are seemingly stronger than our recon suggested, we should keep our eyes open for any more surprises." Curie warned.

"We'll be ready." Ben assured her, keeping his grenade launcher drawn.

"Scorpions, shake up that fence, make us some entrances!" Fairfire ordered.

The trio of tankers all gave their acknowledgements before a series of cannon shots blasted the fence, knocking decent sized holes through it. A series of follow up shots neutralized some of the remaining support struts, leaving the fence as far less of an obstacle.

As soon as the fence fell, gunfire erupted from the ridgeline, with tracers pouring down in substantial numbers, giving the resemblance of a waterfall of fire. The marines scrambled to grab better positions behind the Scorpions they were following or any other hard cover they could find.

The enemy was entrenched within a series of small emplacements and bunkers, which provided effective protection against gunfire. There couldn't have been more than a dozen, and they were constructed from some kind of darkened concrete, reinforced with an external metal supporting structure.

Fairfire's response was immediate. "Tanks, deploy covering smoke!"

Scorpion tanks had an optional modification that introduced a cluster of smoke grenades launched from on top of the turret, creating a blanket of thermally masked smoke in front of the tank and anything behind it. All three Scorpions fired their launchers, and a series of twelve smoke grenades were flung in front of the advancing UNSC forces, all of which began to rapidly assemble a massive, wispy wall that helped deflect the enemies aim.

The main guns and coaxial turrets of the Scorpions offered suppressing fire while the smoke dispersed, supported by the marines with their small arms. Ben joined in, lining up a shot with his grenade launcher, quickly accounted for the range, and fired.

The explosion wasn't even nearly as powerful as a shell from one of the Scorpions, but the blast severely damaged the sandbag emplacement that protected the occupants. Moments later, a pair of silhouettes climbed out of the position, before taking cover behind the ridge.

_Might not have killed them, but at least they got pushed back._ Ben thought.

"Ben, take cover!" Curie called out, warning him just in time for him to dodge out of the way of a barrage of gunfire. He stayed low to the ground, waiting for the smokescreen to fully expand before moving out from cover again.

The Scorpions held their ground, allowing the Marines to grab superior positions to return fire against the entrenched mercenaries. Ben saw Fairfire coordinating a pair of marines with a rocket launcher, who succeeded in blowing apart an enemy bunker.

It seemed, however, that the slavers were not without surprises of their own. A bright beam of blue light emitted from one of the bunkers, impacting the turret of the lead Scorpion, and leaving a horrible black burn when it stopped. The Scorpion remained fully operational, and retaliated by throwing a smoke round in front of the enemy position, blinding it.

"They have pulse lasers!" Curie exclaimed, obviously surprised. "I knew that Remnant had produced the technology, but I had assumed it to be relegated to military usage only, let alone miniaturized to such an extreme scale!"

"I'll consider it a priority target." Ben said, lining up his next shot, before sending a grenade towards the bunker. He was trying to angle the shot so that the grenade went through the window of the bunker, but it missed its mark, exploding uselessly off of the front wall. "Curie, does that bunker have any structural weaknesses?"

"One moment..." Curie said as Ben reloaded. "The bunker has no obvious flaws, but if you can land a shell next to it, you may be able to destroy the weapon with an EMP."

Ben did as she suggested, aiming for the ground directly in front of the target. He fired just as another beam of light blasted out of the bunker, aiming directly at him. The beam of energy grazed him in multiple places, doing a number on his shields. A quick examination confirmed they were down to 35% strength.

_Not weak by any measure, or perhaps just good at countering shields?_ Ben thought as his eyes tracked the flying explosive.

The grenade sailed through the air, with Ben holding down the trigger in order to purposefully delay the explosion. He waited until around a second after it landed, giving it time to penetrate the layers of snow with the leftover force from its flight. When he released the trigger, the detonation signal was sent to the grenade, and it erupted with a mix of explosive force, as well as an electromagnetic pulse that would hopefully render the laser weapon worthless.

"Energy signature nullified, well done." Curie said, confirming that it was disabled.

"Ben, work your way over to the right side, they have wounded and could really use a shield!" Fairfire's voice instructed through his commlink.

"On my way!" Ben replied, picking up the pace in spite of the difficulty the snow offered him.

It seemed like the Marines were managing to hold their own pretty well, with some of the marksman even calling out kills. The Scorpion tanks helped immensely, offering suppressive fire with their weapons as well as outright destroying several of the enemy positions.

"It would appear that the enemy weapons aren't built for long-range." Curie observed.

"I imagine that they're made for killing Grimm." Ben replied, keeping his head low to avoid stray rounds. "Still, we need to close the distance, there isn't enough cover out here."

"The Staff Sergeant has a plan, you just worry about getting to the wounded." Curie said, to which Ben flicked a green light of affirmation on his status monitor. "I've managed to boost the shield's duration and healing effects, but it's not going to be very durable."

"It doesn't look like that's going to be an issue." Ben replied, noticing that the medics had very wisely pulled the wounded Marines into cover behind one of the tanks. He quickly joined the medics in the small ditch in the snow that they had started clearing out.

"Spartan? Thank god, can you get us one of those bubble things?" The lead medic asked.

He carefully positioned the drop shield to cover all of the wounded soldiers, which illuminated them all in a light blue glow. There weren't that many Marines injured, but some of them had been injured quite badly.

"You're a lifesaver, Sierra!" one of the medics said.

"The bubble has a slight regenerative effect, it should help a bit." Ben replied.

"Hell of a party trick." one of the wounded marines murmured, just enough to be audible.

"Ben, come in, over?!" Fairfire's voice suddenly erupted in his helmet, a minor panic in her voice.

"Go ahead." Ben replied.

"Get back to the center of the line, we have a hostile in our line!" she ordered.

Outside of the bubble, Ben watched a man in what looked like a lighter variant of the SDC armor perform a several meter high leap on top of one of the Scorpions, before ramming some kind of quarterstaff straight through the top of the turret, piercing multiple layers of titanium armor with one move, an impossible feat. Once the staff was embedded, a bolt of fire traveled down the length of the weapon, entering into the Scorpion's inner mechanisms, resulting in massive amounts of hot air beginning to pop the armor plates apart.

_A Huntsman._ Ben realized. The briefings on the enemy had stated that some of them might have unusual and even fantastical abilities, and what he had just witnessed certainly filled that description.

"My main gun is offline, someone get this guy off of me!" The tanker called out on an open channel.

Ben took aim with his grenade launcher even before he had fully exited the shield bubble, firing as soon as he was out, and reloading as the projectile moved to hit the man. He purposefully didn't active the EMP on the grenade, and the shrapnel and explosive force would be all but nullified by the tough armor of the Scorpion. As the grenade soared towards the man, he didn't move out of the way, instead watching the explosive with a worrying amount of focus.

Ben watched with absolute astonishment as he pulled his staff out of the now-smoldering Scorpion turret, before using it like a club to smack the grenade out of the air like a baseball. As if the man had launched the weapon himself, the Grenade flew back towards Ben.

"Ben!" Curie called out in warning.

"Boost the shield!" Ben called out, taking cover back inside of the shield as the grenade landed where he was standing a moment earlier.

The blast substantially damaged the drop shield, but it stood strong, helped by Curie tweaking its settings. The bubble turned from a light blue to a warm orange, before collapsing several seconds later. Recognizing that if he stayed where he was that wounded Marines would be endangered, Ben switched to his battle rifle, charging forward as he did so.

The Huntsmen began to twirl his staff around his body at incredible speeds, the pole becoming surrounded by a fiery, cloud-like shroud as it got faster. Ben blasted off a series of three-round bursts at the target, but most of his rounds were deflected either by the Huntsman's staff or his aura.

With one final, deliberate move, he launched a massive ball of fire at Ben, the physics-defying projectile erupting from the end of his staff like a bullet. Despite the unexpected nature of the attack, Ben's enhanced reflexes gave him enough time to roll out of the way, leaving only a crater of melted snow as a result of the impact. Interestingly, the concussive force that Ben had braced for never came, it was as if the projectile lacked any sort of momentum despite the speed it flew at.

"Curie, how do we beat him?" Ben asked as he fired, trying to keep the Huntsman on the defensive, but he was able to deflect almost all of Ben's shots.

"You need to erode his aura, keep firing. I have a plan to get him off of the tank." Curie replied.

Ben managed to keep the Huntsman in a pinned state, as he was forced to deflect the incoming fire of Ben as well as several marines positioned around the Scorpion. It seemed as if some of the gunfire was getting through, as occasionally his aura would appear, as if to absorb the hits. Without any warning, a jet of fire erupted from the hole in the Scorpion's turret, blasting the Huntsman in the face, forcing him back off of the tank. Ben picked up his pace, reloading as he went to try and get around the tank.

"That worked." Curie observed, her voice giving away her surprise. "Although that isn't quite what I expected the fire suppression system to do."

"Either way, it worked." Ben pointed out as he rounded the rear of the tank.

As the enemy Huntsman came into view, Ben noticed that he was now in combat with almost half of the Marines, as well as the third Scorpion. It seemed like most of the fire from the ridgeline had stopped, and the enemy Huntsman was having trouble deflecting all of the fire, although several of the Marines that had been close enough to him had seemingly been either knocked out or burned into submission by the Huntsman.

Ben jumped into the fray, targeting areas that he knew would be difficult for the Huntsman to cover with his staff, he managed to score a few direct hits before the Huntsman launched an incredibly fast bolt of fire directly at Ben. His shields managed to absorb all of the damage, but they had not finished recharging, and they were left with only 5% strength from the blast.

Undeterred, Ben kept firing, before he was struck by an idea. He holstered his battle rifle and drew his grenade launcher, double-checking to affirm that it was loaded with a high-explosive round.

"Ben, he can deflect your grenades." Curie warned.

"I know." Ben replied, before launching the projectile directly at the man. Ben noticed him prepare to swat the grenade away, but could almost sense the fear in him once the Grenade detonated mere moments before hitting his staff. The resulting blast blew apart his aura and sent him flying backwards into a snowbank. "-but not if he never gets a chance to hit it."

"Good thinking." Curie affirmed.

The gunfire had stopped for now, but Ben stayed on alert. While the medics and Marines moved to tend to the wounded and secure the perimeter, Ben walked over and inspected the man he had just defeated. To his surprise, the man was still alive, albeit badly injured. At a closer glance, it seems that his armor only resembled the SDC armor, and was an entirely different set. He noticed Ben looming over him and gave him a glare that could be sensed even through the man's helmet.

"Go ahead, give me your best shot." The wounded Huntsman said with labored breathing.

Ben ignored him, instead opening a TEAMCOM channel to Fairfire. "Sir, the Huntsman class combatant has been immobilized, but is still alive, orders?"

"You don't need to use the radio." Fairfire's voice came from behind him, as she came to a stop next to him, staring at the Huntsman lying in the crimson-stained snow. "So, let's say we don't shoot you and we try to take you captive, how the hell do we even hold a guy like you?"

He pulled off his own helmet with a considerable amount of effort, revealing the blood-covered face of a pale Germanic man. "I... would say... that you have bigger problems... than the likes of me"

Fairfire knelt down on one knee and looked at the man in the eye through her visor. "Is that so? We beat you, what's to say we can't beat your buddies?"

Despite his gruesome injuries, he smirked, and even gave a chuckle. "It's... not them you need to worry about."

"Sir, you've got incoming! Lots of hostile contacts! We're coming to you!" Meadow's panicked voice suddenly emerged on TEAMCOM.

Ben suddenly gained a horrible, ominous gut feeling as he turned around, seeing a single Lynx speeding towards them in the distance, behind them, it looked like the twilight sky behind them was moving in places.

"Ah hell." Fairfire grumbled, drawing her magnum and whacking the man on the head, sending him into a merciful unconsciousness. "Onyx, pop illumination round!"

The Lynx threw a single mortar shell into the air, moments later, a floating bulb of bright light revealed the massive swarm of Grimm pursuing them. The largest ones stole the focus, but the tiny silhouettes of smaller Grimm types were also barely visible.

Ben gave a thoughtful grumble. "I thought it would take them longer."

"I guess we'll have to accelerate our plans." Fairfire commented, switching the channel on her commlink, ready to deploy the next part of their strategy.


	25. Chapter 25

**Discretionary Warning: Although this story was given a general "T" rating, this chapter features graphic depictions of potentially disturbing topics.**

**Mantle**

**Alliman Surface Excavation, Site 2, 234 kilometers from Atlas**

**October 7th, 0845 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

If there was one universal trait amongst all UNSC recon vehicles, they were all very good at running away, their universal high speed allowing for better possibility of a successful getaway. Many of them even possessed rear-facing weapons, permitting the occupants to fire upon pursuing enemies, the M13 Lynx was no exception, armed with the same M41 "Vulcan" LAAG as it's Warthog cousin, which Meadows put to use keeping the flying Grimm from catching up to them. Most of the land-based Grimm were too slow to catch up, but some were fast enough to need killing.

"How's it going Boss?" Nathan asked as he withdrew another can of ammunition from the vehicles large glove compartment, and began the process of adding the rounds to Meadow's mechanical belt to be fired, although their linkless nature made it difficult.

"They're starting to gain on us!" Meadows warned, temporarily increasing the rate of fire on the weapon to deal with an especially hard target, some kind of boney pill bug the size of a tank. Even the armor piercing .50 BMG rounds had trouble punching through the plating, but it went down after several seconds of concentrated gunfire.

"Where the hell is our air support?!" Yu asked, not taking her attention away from driving.

"They'll need more time to close the distance!" Meadows reported as he shredded a pair of Beowolves into oblivion, their rapidly dissolving corpses. "Nathan, keep feeding me belts!"

"I'm running out of cans!" Nathan pointed out, although he continued to add new ammunition to the belt as fast as he could.

"Hopefully we won't need many more!" Meadows replied, bringing the Vulcan around to blow apart some kind of flying lion with a scorpion tail. "Was that a fucking Manticore?"

"A what?!" Yu shouted in response. "You know what, forget it!"

Another of the creatures dived towards the Lynx, before spitting a bolt of fire that barely missed the vehicle. Nathan could distinctly feel the area around him get much hotter, and despite the sudden heat, he let out a brief shiver.

"These things breathe fire?!" Meadows protested as he reduced the offending Grimm to a bullet riddled version of itself.

"I take it all back, this planet sucks!" Nathan added with a hint of fear.

"Trying to concentrate here!" Yu protested.

"Just drive!" Meadows ordered. "Nathan, get me some more rounds!"

"Last can!" Nathan called out as he withdrew the ammo container, before spotting something above them, a massive bird the size of a dropship that was closing in on them. "Boss, look up!"

"There's not much I can do about that thing!" Meadows admitted, although that didn't stop him from firing anyway.

As the giant bird closed the distance, it began to fling it's feathers at the Lynx. The projectiles impacted the ground like giant javelins, sticking out of the ground like menacing black obelisks. Most of them missed completely, but one of them flew true and landed directly in Nathan's left thigh, the projectile punched directly through canopy of the vehicle, his armor, flesh, and then pinned him to the seat.

He let out a howl of pain, followed by a series of extremely profane language. He was no stranger to wounds, but this was easily one of the worst he'd ever had. Even with the massive feather still embedded in him, he could feel blood rapidly pooling around the wound.

"Jesus Christ!" Yu said, taking a momentary glance in his direction and seeing what had happened.

"Nathan, Nathan!" Meadows called out, trying to get through to him. Nathan could hear the gun continue to fire, so Meadows must have still been firing. "Nathan hang in there!"

He tried to respond, to say something along the lines of "I'm okay", but was unable to get anything more than slurred nonsense out of his mouth. He could feel his senses beginning to nullify, and he was vaguely aware of additional projectiles landing around them, forcing Yu to take evasive action to avoid being hit. He tried to reach the medical kit in front of him, but the feather blocked his reach.

"Incoming!" Meadows called out as the giant bird dove to rip into the Lynx with its massive talons, but it never got the chance. A pair of missiles soared over their vehicle and collided with the monster, blowing it into rapidly disappearing chunks, with fragments of shrapnel landing all around them. "What the hell?!"

Yu noticed it too. "Oorah, cavalry's here!"

**Meanwhile**

**D77H-TCI Dropship, Callsign "Fireball"**

"Target down." Fireball's co-pilot confirmed. "The other Grimm are reacting to our presence."

_Thank god, hopefully we'll be able to draw some attention off of those poor bastards._ Fireball thought. "Give me the chaingun."

"It's yours." her co-pilot acknowledged, swiping the controls for the autocannon over to her station. "We aren't exactly rated for dogfighting you know."

"Yeah, and you aren't rated for bitching, but look at what you're doing." Fireball retorted as she opened fire.

The massive chaingun blasted through most targets with ease, the depleted-uranium slugs ripping directly through most of the smaller targets and coming out the side barely slowed. Some targets, notably those with the heavy bone armor, were able to survive several hits, although follow up shots rendered them as dead as their companions.

_We won't stick around for too long, just until the Hornets get here._ Fireball thought.

The flight of Hornets that they had planned to engage the Grimm weren't in position by the time they were needed, so Fireball decided to step in with her own craft to fill the gap. Technically, she was supposed to be with the other two members of her wing, but that hardly mattered now. She noticed several of the larger Radar contacts had abandoned their pursuit of the recon team, and were now moving directly for her Pelican.

"Radar counts fourteen... correction, twenty-four inbound Bogies." Her co-pilot called out. "Unlocking missiles."

"Take the gun." Fireball said, handing over control of the Pelican's chin gun to her co-pilot so that he could continue firing. She checked the guidance software for the Anvil-II missiles, and was surprised to see a blank targeting scope. "My scope is clear, I'm seeing-"

"Use Radar guidance, their infrared signatures aren't visible to our sensors." her co-pilot suggested, the steady rhythm of the cannon's muzzle not stopping as he spoke.

Fireball swapped the guidance system, which immediately set to work on acquiring targets, the computer designated them in order of how dangerous they seemed to be, and assigned missiles in corresponding order. She was surprised by the lack of even a basic thermal signature on the Grimm, practically everything that had a heartbeat possessed one.

_Maybe they can change their body temperature to blend in? That's scary._ Fireball thought, before clearing her mind as the computer finished it's work, playing a loud electronic whine to announce it was ready to fire. "Tone and lock, firing!"

The remaining six missiles in the Pelican's starboard pod launched with a fiery display, before all of them made contact. Five of the missiles scored kills, but the largest target, some kind of terrifying giant bird, managed to survive the impact and began to retreat.

_Those warheads are rated for making a clearing in deep jungle, what the hell are these things made of?_ Fireball thought.

"Remaining bogies closing fast, we should pull out." her co-pilot said, although he did not stop firing.

"Will the recon team be able to retreat without us?" Fireball asked doubtfully, it wasn't lost on her that they were the only reason that the Lynx had managed to survive for as long as it already had.

"You know, you can just ask." A voice emitted from her commlink. She recognized the tone of the Dominion's oldest Pilot, "Spark". "We'll take care of it from here, bug out and return to your position."

Fireball gave a slight grin despite the fact that she'd just been told off. "Jump reactors to 100%, we're leaving."

"Thank god." her co-pilot quietly muttered, barely audible enough for her to hear.

**Meanwhile**

"I think she violated more regulations with that one move than I have all day." Fairfire said, speaking mostly to herself, watching through her binoculars as the daredevil Pelican made it's getaway.

Behind her, the Marines finished securing the ridgeline, keeping their eyes on the inner courtyard of the compound to make sure that the SDC mercs didn't try anything. They'd retreated into their concrete structures and hadn't shown signs of activity since, even the heavy flak guns remained unmanned.

"Regulation breaking maybe, but lifesaving." Ben justified next to her. "I'd take a demotion for it, but I'd have done the same in her shoes."

In the distance, a formation of tiny green and red lights dotted throughout the air, the navigation lights of the UNSC's main VTOL attack craft, the Hornet. Fairfire watched as miniscule projectiles erupted from the vehicles, the missiles soared through the air, before the entire salvo of missiles landed directly in the middle of the loose Grimm formation.

The results of the strike were absolutely catastrophic, Fairfire watched with satisfaction as a massive cascade of explosions racked the loose Grimm formation, with the some of the smaller ones being tossed through the air from the force of the blasts. The larger Grimm took it the worst, with the four large Elephant-like Grimm in the center being completely buried beneath a mountain of smoke and fire, although Fairfire couldn't see the results, it wasn't hard to guess that by the time the smoke cleared, they would have dissolved.

"Damn, I guess they broke out the Doorkickers." Ben said, referring to the large, underslung missiles that the Hornets had been using. In the distance, tracers began to erupt from the aircraft in incredible volume, tearing into the flying Grimm who were moving to engage them. "Do you think they'll even need a second run?"

"They will." Fairfire guessed, lowering her binoculars and keying her commlink. "Onyx, status report!"

"Still kicking!" Meadows reported. "Nathan took a bad hit, we're going to need CASEVAC."

_Shit, we've taken a lot of losses._ Fairfire thought. "Patch him up and get back to us, we'll send him up to the Dominion with our own wounded."

"Understood, we're on our way." Meadows confirmed.

"Good copy, Battlemage out." Fairfire said, before lifting her shotgun into a more professional position, rather than let it hang by the sling. "Come with me Sergeant, I might need your help for this."

"Wilco." Ben simply said, following along as they walked towards the impromptu triage center they had established by the damaged Scorpion.

The assault had gone well enough, with most of her Platoon still standing and active. Judging by the amount of corpses that the Marines had pulled off of the ridge, they'd inflicted much worse losses than they had actually received, with most of the Marine casualties being wounded in some manner. Fairfire stopped along the way to reassure one particularly-badly wounded Marine, who had lost an eye to a piece of shrapnel. The medics had stabilized him, although he would need an artificial replacement.

The enemy Huntsman had inflicted the worst of their losses, including both KIA Marines. Despite the briefing, Fairfire simply hadn't expected the mobility or abilities demonstrated by the man, it made her slightly uneasy, seeing such impossible feats performed against the men under her command. Despite her gut-instinct to put three rounds from her magnum into the back of his head, she'd ordered the man's wounds to be stabilized, as he was instrumental to her developing plan.

Still, she recognized the possibility that he could continue to use his abilities, as even while wounded, his aura would apparently recharge itself. As a precaution, she had his hands and feet bound, along with a series of medical splints roughly wrapped around his legs and arms to keep them in place. Should all of that fail to contain him, she'd ordered him moved a safe distance from the rest of wounded, and had his stretcher placed on top of a shaped charge.

_Besides, worst case scenario, I'm standing next to a Spartan._ Fairfire thought, satisfied with her precautions. _Although I'm sure the Lieutenant's gonna give me hell for putting a patient on top of a bomb._

She and Ben walked up to the man, who was, rather surprisingly, conscious. She'd already pilfered some sort of I.D card off his person, revealing his name was Adrian, although the rest of it had been burned off during the battle. "Well, I wasn't expecting you to be awake."

"That makes two times I've caught you off guard." Adrian responded, his sass undermined by the coarse nature of his speech. "So, why didn't you kill me?"

"You weren't a threat anymore." Fairfire answered. "Besides, I think you might have some useful information."

"Ah." Adrian responded with as much of a nod as he could manage. "What is it you want to know?"

"What's your garrison here?" Fairfire asked, not expecting a response.

"It was around two-dozen, but I imagine we're in single digits by now." Adrian unexpectedly said, and he seemed to recognize her surprise. "What, didn't expect me to talk? The pay might be decent, but it ain't worth getting shot."

_A paycheck only guarantees so much loyalty._ Fairfire thought. "I see. Sergeant, go use your enhanced yelling capabilities and see if the enemy is interested in giving up without a fight."

"They probably will, without me, they don't have a way to fight your tanks." The man offered as Ben complied, making his way up the ridgeline. "By the way, kind of overkill."

"Thanks for the input jackass, but I don't recall asking." Fairfire said with a glare in his direction, even through her helmet, he got the message and shut his mouth. "Now, what the hell is a Huntsman, a "Defender of humanity", doing out here with these bastards?"

"I ain't a fucking Huntsman!" Adrian protested, unexpectedly violently. "I am pragmatic! I'm not a blind idiot who can't see how the world works, and I'm willing to get my hands dirty!"

"Oh yeah, how'd that work out for ya?" Fairfire asked rhetorically, but did not receive even a snarky response. "So, if you ain't a Huntsman, what the hell are you?"

"Well, back in the army, I was a Specialist, which is what they called me here." Adrian said halfheartedly. "I wasn't a licensed Huntsman, but the money was good, and it let me put my training to good use."

"I see." Fairfire thought, noting that bit of intel down for later. In the distance, she could hear Ben's voice, amplified to the volume of a megaphone by his helmet, yelling at the remaining defenders. "Well, I think that's about all I needed from you. Now sit tight, once your buddies are all rounded up, I'll send someone to drag your sorry ass out of the snow."

"Uh-huh." Adrian responded dryly.

Fairfire pulled aside a Marine to guard the prisoner and handed him the detonator for the bomb he was lying on. She gave him a brief set of instructions and left to join Ben on the ridgeline. By the time she had reached him, eight unarmed mercenaries had made it halfway towards the ridge.

"Very impressive." Fairfire said, watching as some of the Marines advanced to detain them.

"Curie did most of the talking, I just relayed the message." Ben said with a shrug. "I don't know if that's all of them."

"We'll find out." Fairfire said, keying her commlink in the process. "Alpha team, sweep the concrete structures to the East. Bravo, you're on the shaft entrance, but don't go in. Charlie, bind the prisoners and make sure that the wounded get out."

A series of confirmations from the squad leaders rang out. Ben cocked his head, obviously expecting orders.

"Go with Alpha, see if those buildings had any terminals, we'll take any intel we can get." Fairfire ordered after a moment of thought.

"Yes Sir." Ben responded.

**Mantle**

**Alliman Surface Excavation, Primary Shaft**

**October 7th, 0901 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

The industrial grade elevator was clearly meant to carry multiple tonnes of valuable Dust, so a Spartan and a small team of Marines wasn't a problem for the lift to fit or carry. Low-quality lighting systems in the shaft however, meant that Ben elected to leave his helmet light on, as to keep unobstructed visibility.

"I was not expecting a mineshaft at a surface excavation site." Curie said. "Normally the two concepts are-"

"Curie, can we kindly stay on the task at hand?" Fairfire asked over the radio. She had stayed on the surface in order to maintain a secure radio connection to the Dominion, but was still in contact so far.

"You are right, I apologize." Curie replied. "This shaft leads approximately seven-hundred meters underground, although we will be stopping around five-hundred meters down."

"There's multiple stops?" Ben asked, his confusion stemmed from the fact that the controls for the lift only had two settings.

"The deepest portion of the mine was closed off due to a Centinal Infestation, publicly available information states that they are a type of Grimm known for subterranean activities." Curie explained.

"Wait, what kind of activities?" One of the Marines asked, suddenly concerned.

"They will not be a threat, Private." Curie reassured him. "Although that does not mean we will be safe, be on your guard."

"Yes Ma'am." the Marine said, beneath his feet, Ben began to feel the platform slow down.

"This is it, be ready for anything." Ben warned as the lift ground to a halt.

"Good luck Sergeant, Battlemage out." Fairfire said, cutting off her line.

The large metal doors to the lift dragged themselves out of the way, and Ben suddenly found himself staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Ben noticed the weapon shake violently before he even noticed the wielder holding it, shaking an equal amount. He didn't fire the weapon, and Ben didn't fire his.

The man was alone, at least as far as Ben could tell, with the rest of the shaft obstructed by some kind of secondary gate. He had a set of rabbit's ears atop his head, and appeared to be severely malnourished, his baggy clothes dangling off of his body with plenty of room to spare. He appeared to be in absolute shock at the sight of the force in front of him. Behind him, Ben could see the corpses of two more Faunus, as well as the body of a mercenary with a pickaxe protruding from their chest.

_They must have taken their chance to overpower the guards._ Ben thought, slowly lowering his weapon. "Easy there... friend, we're here to help. Can you lower your weapon?"

The man stared blankly at him for a moment, before he dropped his weapon, which fell to the floor with a clattering sound. He tried to turn and run, but ended up falling down, landing gracelessly on his back. He made a series of panicked mumbles as he scrambled backwards, before closing his eyes, as if hoping the situation would fix itself if he wasn't looking at it.

"Oh no..." Curie quietly muttered, an unmistakable hint of pity in her voice.

Ben felt his blood quietly boil, he briefly speculated about what exactly had happened to the man, before giving a hand signal to the Marines to advance while he stayed behind. He stepped over the Atlesian-made shotgun on the ground, doing his best to ignore the gut instinct to crush the weapon beneath his boot. He took a series of slow, steady steps over towards the man, before kneeling by his side.

"Hey, I'm not going to hurt you." Ben said, but his words fell on deaf ears. Out of the man's mumbled response, he could vaguely make out the word "no".

"Ben, I don't think... I don't think he can hear you." Curie gently said. For a moment, Ben kneeled there, looking at the man before him, listening to his quiet whimpering.

_I was never trained for a situation like this, I don't know what to do._ Ben quietly thought, desperately wracking his mind for a solution to the problem. _Maybe Curie can help?_

"What should I do?" Ben asked her, totally lost.

Her silence was deafening, and lasted a full second, a serious oddity for her. "I think we should leave him, and continue the mission." Curie said doubtfully. "He... isn't a threat. We need to see if anyone else is alive, and then extract them."

"Affirmative." Ben simply responded, hoping the dullness in his voice wasn't too obvious. He reached an experimental hand out to the man's shoulder, but it was as if he didn't even notice, he had become completely catatonic.

Ben made a brief detour back towards the lift, picked up the foreign shotgun off of the ground, and snapped it in half like a twig, his anger fueling his actions to the point where it felt like it took no effort. Even if the man wasn't a threat, it wouldn't be a good idea to leave him a loaded weapon. He rejoined the other Marines at the secondary gate, which was made out of large metal plates.

"Status report." Ben simply said, not caring about any of the concerned looks the Marines were giving him, evidently they had been watching.

"The door is locked from the other side." One of the Marines, a Corporal, reported. "We heard noise from the other side, but whoever is won't respond to us."

"I see." Ben said with a nod. If someone was on the other side, they couldn't blow the door off of its hinges without potentially crushing them. Ben gave the door a series of knocks, his Titanium Gauntlet making it sound more like a metal collision. "UNSC Marine Corps, open the door!"

No response came. Ben gritted his teeth, knocking again, harder this time. "If you do not open the door, we will be forced to-"

"Wait!" A muffled voice said from the other side. From the other side, the sound of chains being moved was heard, before the doors opened inwards, revealing a chilling sight.

Around a dozen Faunus stood before him, dressed in loose-fitting clothing, and looking just as malnourished as their lone guardian. Many of them had injuries, which had been awkwardly treated with whatever they had available, mainly rags. The Marines around him began to retch from a horrible smell that Ben could barely pick up on, and he immensely found a fresh wave of sympathy for the Marines.

The worst part was the bodies, there were more of them than there were survivors. It was readily apparent by the spent casings and bullet holes in the walls that a fight had transpired here, and the Slaves had paid dearly for their victory. He picked out a small number of corpses belonging to the guards, but they were far too few in number for what it had cost to kill them.

"We surrender." The apparent leader of the slaves said. She cast aside her captured shotgun, and her voice was tired and dejected.

"We're not with the SDC, we're here to rescue you." Ben bluntly replied. He could probably have been more gentle about his words, but he was eager to get their wounded out of the tunnel, they would be lucky if none of their wounds had already been infected.

_I don't even want to speculate what this is going to be like for their mental health._ Ben thought, although that was outside of his field of expertise. "As much as I would like to offer you further reassurance, I believe that the urgency of the situation takes priority."

The Woman, as well as the rest of the Faunus, looked at him quizzically, and took a deep breath before she finally responded. "I'm not going to turn down the chance to get out of this place. Lead the way."

"Wait." Ben said, stopping her with a raised hand as she tried to move forward. "Is this everyone?"

The woman gulped, her face shifting to one of immense regret. "Well, Everyone who..." she began, gesturing towards the massive pile of bodies behind her.

Ben gave a solemn nod. "Corporal, get them out of here. Don't forget the man we found by the entrance, and get topside. I'm going to have a look around."

"Yes Sergeant!" The Corporal acknowledged, as he began to give all of the Faunus a quick inspection. "Can everyone walk..."

Ben tuned them out as he acquired a more solid grip on his rifle, trying to reassure himself with it's familiar weight as he stepped around the corpses. Most of them still had their eyes open, staring at him, as if pleading for him to bring them back.

"Ben, what are we looking for?" Curie asked, her disturbed tone obvious.

"Survivors, I want to see if anyone's still breathing." Ben replied, his mind on autopilot as he gave a visual confirmation to all of bodies, making sure they were actually dead.

None of the slaves had survived, and most of them had been killed by gunshots. Ben was all but certain of it, even before he checked, but the last thing he wanted was to leave anyone behind, especially if they were too wounded to speak. On his way out, however, one of the guards coughed himself awake, rolling himself onto his belly.

_Out of everyone to survive..._ Ben thought angrily, walking over to the man. The guard was reaching for his shotgun, but Ben kicked his weapon down the slope of the mine, leveling his rifle towards the man's head. "If you intend to survive, I strongly suggest you surrender."

The man gave several more coughs, followed by spitting a large amount of blood out in front of him. He didn't give an answer, but Ben could see that without a weapon, he wasn't much threat. He flipped the wounded guard over with his foot, and quickly realized his injuries would be fatal. His chest was covered in blood, and filled with dozens of pieces of shrapnel, including hits to his liver and lungs. He briefly considered putting the man out of his misery, but his anger kept him from doing so.

"Ben, he's suffering!" Curie protested as he began to walk away.

"I know." Ben replied,not betraying a hint of emotion. "He's not recovering from that."

"We could-" Curie began.

"Waste of ammo." Ben interrupted, far more harshly than he had intended. He took another glance around him as he reflected. "Sorry, I'm just..."

"I understand." Curie replied, her voice indicating her forgiveness at his outburst. "I feel the same way, these people..."

"There's still more to this mine." Ben pointed out, interrupting her silence. "Should we-"

"We can return with backup." Curie answered quickly. "I will admit, I find myself eager to leave."

Ben took one last look down the sloping tunnel of the mine, wondering if he would be leaving anyone else behind. He was also worried about leaving any potential holdouts of the enemy undiscovered, but in the end, he decided Curie was in the right, and turned back towards the Elevator.

"I radioed the Marines to send it back down, it should be there by the time we reach it." Curie said.

"Good foresight." Ben answered, his mind still almost on autopilot.

Curie seemed to detect his solemn nature. "Ben, I know this is difficult, but..."

"I expected this, hell, I was trained to deal with atrocities." Ben broke the silence. "I just... didn't think it would be humans doing it."

"We put a stop to it." Curie pointed out somewhat reassuringly.

Ben stopped by one of the bodies, a Faunus woman with notably reptilian horns who had been shot several times in the throat, nearly decapitating her. "Not fast enough."

"At least there were survivors." Curie pointed out. "We have not done anything wrong."

"It is possible to commit no mistakes, and still lose." Ben muttered sadly, quoting a statement he had once heard from CPO. Mendez as he boarded the lift.


	26. Chapter 26

**Alliman Surface Excavation, Site 2**

**October 7th, 0942 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

As the Marines finished photographing the dead, as well as collecting DNA samples so that they could be identified, Ben and a small team stood watch in the formerly SDC-occupied positions. Fairfire would occasionally spot a Grimm or two that were lagging behind the main offensive, and Ben would put them down. It was a boring task, and he was able to reflect on the battle while he watched for any more incoming forces.

In less than an hour, Ben had received one of the most harrowing experiences of his life. The enemy Specialist had presented a worrying challenge, and it was only thanks to his reliable equipment and the assistance of friendly forces that he was victorious. The massacre in the mines also weighed heavily on his mind, and Ben was uncomfortably reminded of the terrible sights by the smallest things and found himself unable to shake an overbearing feeling of failure.

Ben empathized greatly with those Marines who had been given the task of identifying the dead, as even if it was important work, he knew that they would be forced to see the same things he had.

The Commander had also passed down the order to take everything that wasn't bolted down. Computers, weapons, armor and uniforms, but most crucially, samples of Dust. Apparently it was the source of some of the unusual abilities he had witnessed, such as the enemy Specialists fire manipulation. Evidently there were more types, and Ben made a note to himself to do some research when they returned to the Dominion.

The rest of the enemy equipment also held considerable value. Without any chain of supplies, they would need to either fabricate or barter for whatever they needed. The Dominion was made to carry a far larger complement of Marines than it actually had, and that meant its cargo bays had plenty of room. Another team of Marines loaded whatever they could pilfer into the large cargo container of the Albatross dropship in the courtyard.

_We might as well be pirates._ Ben realized, as his mind tried to justify the action. _Then again, we've stolen from the Covenant before, and these guys aren't much better._

"Ben, we have a tango, four-hundred meters out and closing." Fairfire said from beside him, snapping him out of his thoughts. The slight irritation in her voice giving away her own mood.

"I see him." Ben replied. A few seconds later, he placed a three-round burst from his battle rifle through the head of the approaching Creep, which crumpled to the ground and vanished in a puff of smoke. "He's down. That kind of Grimm seems like some of the weaker ones."

"Don't let your guard down." Fairfire said warily. "Some of those big bird things could come sweeping down on us at any minute..."

"The Albatross is watching over us with its Radar, we'll have some warning." Ben replied, trying to calm her down. In truth, he was also worried about their equipment, the Grimm had proven to be an unpredictable opponent. "If that fails, we still have Hornets in the air."

"I suppose." Fairfire said, although Ben could tell she was still somewhat unconvinced. "I still can't believe that only thirteen of them lived..."

_Well, I was trying to avoid thinking about it._ Ben awkwardly thought, grinding his teeth slightly in frustration, a bad habit of his.

"I encourage you to try to remember that we did what we could, and that without our intervention, it is likely there would not have been survivors." Curie argued, although Ben noticed that she had also been quiet up to this point.

"Yeah, but this still feels like an evac gone south." Fairfire said sourly. "I was hoping that without the Covies, things might be different."

"We'll just have to make them different." Ben responded, but was interrupted by the chirp of his and Fairfire's commlinks.

"Staff Sergeant, we're just about done here." A voice came over TEAMCOM. "Give us maybe thirty seconds, and we'll have this bird full."

"Copy, let us know when. As soon as this place is empty, we're bugging out." Fairfire responded, which received a brief acknowledgement.

"I will admit, I am eager to leave this place." Curie said, only speaking once Fairfire was done.

"Me too, Curie." Fairfire quietly replied. Ben didn't speak, but he didn't need to, they already knew he agreed.

"Hey, Ben. When do you think Jorge will be in the fight again?" Fairfire suddenly asked, interrupting the silence. "We're gonna need some help if the rest of the mines are going to be like this."

"He's a Spartan, he'll be back in the fight in no time." Ben answered, although privately, he suspected that Jorge would need more time.

"Hopefully, Nathan too." Fairfire said, worry occupying her voice.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 7th, 1123 Menagerie Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

Richard wasn't afraid to admit that he was disturbed by the outcome of the mission. The report on his datapad listed off the events of the battle, and it left a lot to be desired. Not only had they failed to rescue many of the slaves, but the losses they had suffered carried a concerning message, that they were not as powerful as they thought. Still, the Marines had performed exceptionally, and even while split up, Fireteam Onyx proved their worth once again.

Of particular note were two extraordinary events performed by the men on the ground, when Ben had defeated the enemy Specialist, leading to his capture. As well as the actions of a Marine marksman who had demonstrated exemplary accuracy, which had saved his squad from becoming pinned down. He made a small note reminding himself to commend both of them for their actions, as well as issue a disciplinary action to the pilot "Fireball" for performing an unauthorized airstrike. Although he also noted that her actions had saved the recon detachment, so perhaps a lighter punishment was in order.

They had already known the nature of what conditions the slaves were being kept in, but seeing it from the perspective of a UNSC helmet camera somehow made it even worse. All of the Faunus that they had managed to save required medical attention, and would almost certainly require both psychological and physical therapy to make a full recovery.

_We don't have the resources to give potentially hundreds of people intensive medical care._ Richard realized as he read the subsequent medical summaries. _We're going to need some help._

"Ensign Gillespie!" Richard called out, getting the young man's attention.

"Yes, Sir?" He asked, turning his attention away from his terminal.

"Send a message to Chieftan Belladonna, inform him that we are in urgent need of assistance caring for Faunus refugees." Richard hesitated for a moment before cursing his own reluctance. "... and that we would be willing to provide him with substantial medical advances in return for his assistance."

"Aye Sir!" Gillespie responded, setting about his new task immediately.

As he went to return his attention to the reports, Curie composed herself on the holotable before him. "Commander, if I may..."

"Go ahead, Curie." Richard replied, recognizing from the inflection in her tone that she intended to challenge him, and he had a feeling he knew why.

"Are we really going to force these people to barter for our medical advancements?" Curie asked. "That seems... wrong."

_Called it._ Richard thought, still somewhat melancholy from the report

"We do a lot of "wrong" things Curie, but I believe I understand." Richard responded pointedly. "I have no intentions of holding our medical knowledge hostage, I recognize that we could save a lot of lives, and Dr. Chase has been rather... insistent, that we see about modernizing the medical care of Remnant."

"I am aware, she has been bothering me as well." Curie said with a nod of sympathy. "So, why the bartering?"

"Because while I intend to give away the knowledge freely, we cannot hope to care for all of the refugees this conflict will create, and we will need help." Richard said. "We don't have any rear-echelon troops to handle this for us, and we are not caretakers, we are a military force."

"Why do you not simply ask him to take them? Menagerie is a self-described Faunus nation, I am all but certain that he would accept the request." Curie pointed out.

"Because, Menagerie is a nation with its own troubles, and Ghira offering charity at the expense of his own citizens could cast him in a negative light." Richard explained. "This not only gets our medical knowledge to one of Remnants nations, but it also gives the Chieftain a way to save face while he offers us the help we need."

Curie's facial expression changed to one of understanding. "Politics are so confusing..."

"Yeah, I left ONI for a reason." Richard half-joked.

"While I am here, Lieutenant Commander Bradford and Lieutenant Clark have requested to speak with you." Curie said. "They are currently in the War Room, and have requested that you go to them."

Richard nodded. "Alert them that I'll be down momentarily."

**The War Room**

Equipped with the largest holotable on the ship, as well as large video screens for displaying inputted footage, the War Room was the perfect place to plan a battle, and the Dominion's had done so many times. It also served as the auxiliary command center of the Dominion, in the event that Bridge was destroyed or rendered inoperable. Bradford stood by the holotable, joined by a small holographic representation of Lieutenant Clark, who was still in Menagerie. In the center of the holotable was a flat map of Mantle, with several dozen red flags positioned around the continent, which Richard recognized as the positions of all SDC owned territories.

"Commander." Clark acknowledged, giving a nod of respect as Richard entered the room, which Bradford also offered.

"What's the situation?" Richard asked, taking his position next to Bradford.

"We were discussing the outcome of our raid on Point Wilhelm-" Clark began.

"Wilhelm?" Richard interrupted, making his lack of understanding evident in his voice.

"We assigned designations for all of the SDC sites, now that we've finished cursory reconnaissance. Some of the original names weren't exactly easy to pronounce." Bradford quickly explained. "The naming structure comes from the strange similarities between Atlas and the former Earth nation of Germany."

Richard nodded. "I understand, but run it past me next time. Proceed, Lieutenant."

Clark cleared his throat. "While we were discussing the recent raid, we came across a larger strategic problem. The enemies unusual abilities mean that Zulu Company will almost certainly suffer extreme casualties in the coming battles if we cannot adapt."

"At our current rate of losses, we will have run out of combat-capable Marines by the time we're halfway through this." Bradford added. "Not only would we be throwing our men into the meat grinder, but they're also irreplaceable."

Richard nodded, their numerical disadvantage was well known to him. "Do you have a solution?"

"We both have different solutions." Clark answered. "And while they aren't mutually exclusive, we will need to prioritize something."

"Lieutenant Oswald also had a suggestion, but he has food poisoning, and is currently in Sick Bay." Bradford added.

_Right, dammit. _Richard thought, his memory returning. "Clark, make your case."

Clark's hologram made a series of gestures, highlighting six of the red flags on the map. "Our intelligence, combined with physical records we've recovered from the ground, indicate a lack of civilian targets at these positions. Apparently they serve as distribution centers and supply depots."

"Valuable targets." Richard summarized quietly.

"On a larger strategic level, yes." Clark said, before continuing. "I propose precision orbital-bombardment on these positions, as a manner of evening out the scales for our troops. Without the heavy assets located at these sites, the enemy will be vulnerable."

Richard grimaced at the mention of orbital strikes, he'd ordered them before, and the results were not pretty. "Those munitions are not replaceable for the foreseeable future, you realize."

"Neither are our Marines." Clark politely countered, before making another gesture and resetting the holotable to its prior state, with a different position highlighted. "There is a seventh, high-priority target. It's a large drydock facility that is privately owned by a corporation with limited ties to the SDC. Our intel suggests they are constructing military airships for the war effort."

That caught Richard's attention, the Atlesian airships had been a main focus for him, and keeping them out of the hands of the enemy was a priority. "Are civilians present?"

"Almost certainly, they produce vessels for more than the SDC." Clark answered regretfully. "We would be forced to take it down the old-fashioned way, and it would be a bloody battle."

"If I may Commander, I have a proposal to alleviate that, as well as improve the general survivability of our soldiers." Curie suddenly said, her hologram appearing next to the shipyard on the holotable.

"Go ahead." Richard said, his curiosity peaked, Bradford and Clark also listened intently.

"Perhaps the largest advantage the enemy possesses is Aura, acting as a shield against damage." Curie said. "While my official report will still need some work, I can say with a degree of confidence that we can outfit our own troops with Auras."

"You want to make our Marines... magical?" Bradford asked disbelievingly, breaking the silence.

"This may be difficult for you to digest, it certainly was for me, but Aura is not... magic." Curie explained. "It is a well-documented phenomenon, and while I would certainly hesitate to call it a science, its extensive usage and reliable consistency lead me to believe that something entirely natural is causing it."

"If that's the case, why haven't we discovered it ourselves?" Richard asked. "How do you even unlock it?"

"Unlocking your own Aura is extremely complicated, and requires a substantial amount of training and willpower, it would not be feasible for our current use. We would need someone with an unlocked Aura to unlock one of our own Auras, whereupon they will unlock someone else's Aura, and so on." Curie explained. "As for why we haven't discovered it, I do not understand, yet."

"I see no downsides here." Clark observed aloud, and even in holographic form, Richard could see that he was excited. "If we can get all of our troops protective shielding, we could not only make our Marines harder to kill, we would open up entirely new strategies."

"Are there any downsides?" Bradford asked, his tone notably more skeptical.

"A person with an unlocked Aura has the potential to attract more Grimm than normal." Curie conceded. "However, this is a non-issue for the crew of the Dominion, and the Marines are trained to handle the stresses of combat."

"So they would actively track us?" Bradford asked, notably more worried.

"It is not that simple, the person would still need to feel negative emotions in the first place." Curie clarified. "I should have explained that the effect is amplified, meaning that it is more powerful, but not always active."

"Well, that's not so bad, we can handle Grimm." Clark said confidently.

"It would also take several days to equip all of our Marines with Auras, if it was sourced from a single individual." Curie added. "It would take several more to ensure everyone would be trained to a bare minimum level of operation."

"It would still take time, time that the enemy would use to prepare." Richard summarized.

"I recognize that, but I believe the additional survivability for our troops is well worth it." Curie replied unflinchingly.

Richard gave it a brief moment of thought, but the decision was fairly obvious. "We'll certainly look into doing that, but we'll need some assistance from the locals."

"That is all I ask, thank you." Curie said, before vanishing.

"XO, I believe you also had a suggestion for our next action?" Richard asked rhetorically, turning to better listen to Bradford.

"I do, and it's fairly simple. We use economic warfare." Bradford explained. "The Schnee Dust Company is still a business, and that means that we can hurt them directly purely by attacking their profits."

Richard's interest was piqued, and he listened intently. He had given the concept some thought himself, albeit not much.

"We would start by freezing all of their electronic assets, and run malware through the systems that we don't have a use for, neutralize them outright." Bradford said.

"What do you mean by that?" Clark asked. "Shouldn't we destroy whatever they're using?"

"A lot of their systems contain valuable intelligence that's constantly being updated, if we destroyed those systems, we would lose that information source." Bradford answered. "But other systems, especially Radar and automated weapons, are susceptible to Curie's strikes."

Richard frowned, Curie's processing power was already heavily divided between the Dominion and Ben. "Curie already has a lot on her plate. Could we use the Dominion's cyberwarfare suite?"

"It's defensively oriented, but that doesn't mean that we can't use it." Bradford replied. "Thomas had some ideas about using it to house offensive software copied over from Curie, but that's not guaranteed to work."

"Is the software not compatible with the damn computer?" Clark asked disbelievingly. "Are they not made by the same people?"

"Unfortunately not, and that's not even mentioning that the system is hardened to hell and back, and it's going on thirty years old." Bradford said.

_I've heard of crazier, much crazier. _Richard thought, recalling some of the extremely innocuous systems that ONI had used in the past to completely destroy insurrectionist groups.

"We'll see what we can do with it." Richard said, making his decision immediately, the idea was too good to pass on. "We'll be able to raise hell without setting a boot on the ground."

"Thank you, Sir." Bradford said with a nod of acknowledgement.

"So, where are we going to put our focus?" Clark asked.

He thought for a moment, before making his decision. "We'll divide our focus, we're going to do all three."

**Meanwhile**

**Sickbay**

Ben didn't usually visit people in Sickbay, as he normally didn't really have anyone to visit, with the exception of a single occasion where Richard had needed a kidney replaced during Ben's training. He'd found the medical bay at Camp Currahee to be a dreary and solemn place, even while not checked in as a patient, and the Dominion's Sickbay had a similar atmosphere.

Curie had suggested that he visit Jorge, since he had wanted to speak to Ben earlier, and he would be lying if he said that the idea of speaking to the legendary Spartan that he had learned so much about didn't excite him. Unfortunately, Curie couldn't join him, since she was needed by the Commander in her entirety.

He was somewhat surprised when the Chief Medical Officer of the Dominion, Doctor Chase, entered the waiting room. "Sergeant?"

"Doctor." Ben acknowledged, maintaining a more rigid posture as he began to follow her. Although she was a Lieutenant, it was customary to refer to her as Doctor in most circumstances, due to her field of expertise.

"The formality will not be necessary, Spartan." Chase said, somewhat dismissively. "I have a lot to do, but I felt the need to personally request something from you."

"Go on." Ben prompted.

"When you're done speaking with your fellow Spartan, could you make a brief detour and speak with some of the wounded, offer some words of encouragement? I'm sure that you're aware just how bad morale is, what with recent events and all..." she said, her voice indicating a quiet insistence.

Ben only thought about it for a brief moment, but with no assigned duties, it seemed like a good use of his time. It also helped that he greatly enjoyed speaking with the Marines, even outside of his own squad. "I'll see what I can do."

She gave him a look of relief. "Thank you, I can't even begin to explain how much I appreciate this. I've got twelve wounded, two in critical condition, four people in... sorry, I'm rambling."

"Not a problem Doctor, I work with loud people." Ben said, only somewhat jokingly.

She gave a brief chuckle. "Why yes, I suppose you do. Anyway, I'm needed elsewhere, I trust you can find your own way around?"

"Of course, good luck Doctor." Ben said genuinely, before continuing onwards to the patient ward as the Doctor went her own way.

Picking Jorge out was fairly easy, given the large number of vacant beds. Ben was surprised, however, to see Lieutenant Oswald occupying another bed some distance from Jorge's.

"Sergeant!" Thomas said, perking up slightly as Ben walked by, although his voice was strained. "Can you give this notepad up to the Commander when you leave? I would do it myself but I'm a bit..."

"Indisposed?" Jorge offered from down the row.

"Yeah, I guess." Thomas said croakily, handing Ben an old-fashioned paper notepad which had been written on extensively.

"Is this a high-priority?" Ben asked, wondering if he should come back another time.

"No, not very." Thomas said. "And if you don't mind, can you pull the curtain shut?"

"Yes, Sir." Ben said, taking a step back and closing the curtain.

"Thank you, Sergeant. I'm uh, going to try to get some rest." Thomas said from the other side.

_Stomach trouble._ Ben recognized. His own stomach had malformed slightly during augmentations, and he had been forced onto a strict diet of unusual foods as it had recovered. _He's got my sympathy._

As Ben walked over to him, he could tell from Jorge's expressions that he was being sized-up. Ben pulled up a chair, double-checked it's sturdiness, and took a seat next to the man. "Sorry that we didn't get to have proper introductions on the ground, our situation is constantly changing."

"So I've read." Jorge said, gesturing towards the datapad resting on the side table. "So, you said your designation was Gamma right?"

"Gamma-Zero-Two-One." Ben stated.

"So they rolled out another company of threes? That's good news, we're gonna need them, especially with Reach under siege." Jorge commented, a hint of relief in his voice.

Ben tried to make his reaction less visible, but he couldn't help but flinch when he realized Jorge didn't know that Reach was gone. Thankfully, if Jorge did notice his reaction, he didn't say anything.

_He gave up his life to save Reach, he's going to be devastated._ Ben thought, he had also been demoralized by Reach's fall, and he hadn't even been there.

"We're certainly eager to get into the fight." Ben said, offering a half-truth. "Although I admit I haven't heard from the rest in a bit."

"Ah." Jorge said in recognition, before his focus shifted slightly. "Your helmet, that that the Mark VI?"

"A prototype, but yes." Ben explained, unlatching the atmospheric seal and removing the helmet.

As soon as Jorge got a look at Ben's face, his expression shifted to one of sympathy, noticing the large burn mark covering nearly half of his face. "Nasty burn there, plasma?"

"Plasma pistol, got shot when I was very young. On reflection, I'm quite lucky to have survived, let alone kept the eye." Ben explained, handing over the helmet, allowing Jorge to examine it.

He turned the helmet around to look at the rear, before looking back at the front. "The visor's much larger than mine, reminds me of the Mark IV."

Ben nodded, recognizing that for a long time Jorge would have worn Mjolnir's oldest variant. "That was the main reason I picked it out, plus, it's a lot harder to break."

"Hmm, valuable." Jorge said, tapping on the golden faceplate, before handing it back over. "Makes me wonder if I can get mine fixed up, I remember it being in bad shape."

"I won't lie, it kinda looks like you got pulled into an interdimensional rift." Ben joked, knowing full well how Jorge had gotten to them. "Bad jokes aside, it's gonna take some serious work. I know that none of our techs are trained to work on it, and in the thirty seconds Curie had to poke around in it, she wasn't able to find your A.I."

"I see." Jorge said, with a melancholic tone that Ben could empathize with. "...The A.I, Curie, is she part of your team?"

"Technically, yes. She was part of another project that I never learned much about, but its failure meant that one of their A.I's fragmented." Ben answered. "She normally interfaces directly with my armor in battle."

"I see, so you have the upgraded neural lace?" Jorge asked. "I've only ever heard about those, although apparently my squad leader was field-testing a prototype."

"Commander Carter?" Ben asked, somewhat surprised, he hadn't known that.

"You know him?" Jorge asked.

"Not personally, no." Ben replied. "But we learned about your team in Class, and I later got briefed on some of the others. Curie and I were meant to act as replacements in the event of a casualty."

Jorge gave a hum of deep thought. "I knew there were other Cat 2's out there, but I never figured they had replacements lined up for us."

"It was a secondary assignment." Ben clarified. "I had other assignments besides filling in for casualties."

Jorge gave a chuckle. "That's reassuring... Do you mind if I ask you a favor?"

Ben looked at him quizzically. "What did you need?"

"Two things, one big, one small." Jorge said. "First off, can you have a look at the unit roster for my team? I'm not quite sure what shape they're in. I don't expect your records to be up to date, but they're probably better than mine."

"I'd need the authorization codes." Ben said, putting his helmet back on, reattaching the neural lace in the process.

"November Alpha Two Five Niner Uniform Hotel Alpha." Jorge recited, much to Ben's surprise.

"That's more than a little informal, Sir." Ben said, inputting the code despite its violation of regulations.

"Yeah, well, my own armor is a bit under the weather, I figured yours might do the job just as well. Besides, I can trust a Spartan, I know what it means to earn that armor." Jorge said with a slight shrug.

"Hell of a compliment." Ben said, genuinely humbled. He continued through the menus of the UNSC battle-network, before coming across Noble team's roster, and realizing that all six members were tagged as MIA. He recognized that with the way that the Battle of Reach had gone, there was a very real chance they were dead, but he had no evidence to say that they were.

"Anything?" Jorge asked.

"MIA, although that doesn't mean much." Ben answered. "I get that might not be the best answer-"

Jorge waved him off. "It's fine, didn't have high hopes anyway, B-net was in shambles even before I left."

Ben tried to gauge Jorge's expression, but it was a fruitless endeavor. "So... the other thing?"

"My armor, as far as I know, you're the only other qualified Mjolnir technician aboard." Jorge explained. "If you could give it a closer look, maybe give me some idea what can and can't be salvaged, I would greatly appreciate it."

"I'll see what I can do." Ben replied.

"Good, hopefully, I won't be cooped up here for much longer, and I can have a look at it myself." Jorge said, looking at the IV in his arm with undisguised contempt.

"I can empathize with that." Ben said, he'd spent his fair share of time in the Sickbay as well. "And we'd do a hell of a lot better with another Spartan on the ground."

"Yeah… if I'm gonna go straight into combat I might need to make some adjustments to my own weapon, especially with these new guys." Jorge said.

"The Mercs?" Ben asked.

"Oh no, my weapon can handle a few Innies, I meant the Grimm." Jorge clarified. "I'm thinking maybe a better feed system, I found mine jamming a lot from the sand."

"Small arms modifications aren't exactly my forte." Ben admitted. "I specialized in CQB and Heavy Armor."

Jorge huffed in approval. "Good set of skills to have. I'll stop keeping you, better deliver that note to your commander."

"Yes, Sir." Ben said as he stood back up. "Although, I did promise the doctor I would stop by and speak with some of the wounded before I left."

Jorge nodded. "Stop by later if you get a chance, it's a bit boring around here."

Ben gave a nod of acknowledgement. "I'll make some time."

"You know where to find me." Jorge said, grabbing his datapad as Ben headed towards his next task.

**Atlas Academy, Headmaster's Officer**

**October 7th, 0630 Atlas Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

Specialist Winter was still groggy, having woken up less than half an hour prior. She hadn't even had her morning coffee before she's been called up to Ironwood's office, which gave her a slight foreboding feeling. After taking the now-instinctive route to his office, she found him sitting at his desk. The General clearly hadn't slept, with obvious bags under his eyes, although his demeanor was unaffected.

"General." Winter said, snapping to a salute.

"At ease, Specialist." Ironwood said, his voice not betraying his exhaustion. "Have a seat."

His tone had Winter slightly worried, although she took a seat nonetheless. He spoke with the same serious tone that he used when talking to the press, without a hint of the friendliness that she had grown accustomed to. While he always remained formal, it wasn't hard to see that he was a very friendly man, something that Winter could respect.

"I'm afraid I don't have good news." He said, taking a deep breath.

"No offense Sir, but you rarely do." Winter pointed out.

"I suppose that's true as well." Ironwood said, without so much as a chuckle. "This concerns your family, more specifically, your father."

"Oh?" Winter asked, her tone unintentionally becoming more hostile. "What about him?"

"I'm sure you're aware of the incident between his private security and their soldiers." Ironwood said. "I also informed you that we've been attempting to mediate the conflict."

Winter nodded in acknowledgment. "I remember, although I don't see the connection."

"The UNSC launched a Cyberwarfare attack on the Schnee Dust Company, and according to their Commander, stole a copy of every single file on record." Ironwood said, gripping his forehead in frustration.

"That's an act of war!" Winter interjected.

"Let me finish!" Ironwood shouted, raising his voice. "I was contacted shortly afterwards, and confronted regarding this."

The General picked up a folder off of his desk, and handed it to Winter, who tentatively opened it. The first paper was a report titled "Schnee Dust Company slaving operations".

"Is... this some kind of joke?" Winter asked, skimming the papers, before she finally reached some of the images. "Oh my gods..."

"I'm sorry." Ironwood solemnly said. A cold chill ran down Winter's spine as she continued, flipping through the papers faster and faster as the content became worse and worse.

"What, what is this?!" Winter demanded. "Is my father...?"

"Responsible for all of it." Ironwood answered.

Winter's mind raced with furious thoughts, emotions coming and going by the moment. Anger, disappointment, and sadness took center stage, along with a significant amount of confusion.

"My father may be a bastard, but I didn't think that he was capable of managing something like this." Winter quietly said.

"In many ways, he doesn't." Ironwood said. "Page 22, it's dedicated to what we believe his motivations may be."

Winter did as he suggested, biting back a remark on how the only thing her father was interested in was profit. The page was surprisingly in-depth, whoever had written it must have exhausted every available source.

"I'll give you the short version, he's apathetic." Ironwood summarized. "From what we know, none of this was ever ordered, or even suggested by him."

"Well, it's profitable, why the hell would he care?" Winter said, reading some of her father's personal notes on the topic. "Why aren't they buried in Grimm?"

"They are, just in a different sense." Ironwood answered, handing her another paper, this one containing some kind of blueprint for a cage. "They capture Apathy from the wild, and keep them in the mines, it nullifies the negativity."

Winter would never admit it, but there was a cleverness to the tactic, despite the immense danger posed to everyone involved. A cruel sort of efficiency no doubt thought up by some supervisor out in the wilds, it sickened her to know they no doubt got a raise or promotion "What about my mother, and Whitley?"

"They're completely unaware, along with the majority of the dust refining companies in Atlas." Ironwood answered.

"I'm getting them out of there." Winter stated, quietly kicking herself for leaving her mother with the rotten bastard for so long already.

"Not yet." Ironwood interjected. "We will make our move, but right now, the courts wouldn't let us act."

"This is fairly damning." Winter said, gesturing towards the folder in her hands.

"And it was delivered to us by foreign agents, and acquired by an electronic strike." Ironwood pointed out. "...The UNSC has decided to take matters into their own hands, and have begun military operations against the mines."

Winter was immediately conflicted on the matter. On one hand, the people they were attacking were citizens of Atlas, on the other, they were criminals and slavers. "What are we going to do about that?"

"Nothing, so long as they don't target civilians." Ironwood stated. "We're at a crossroads, both the SDC and UNSC are potential enemies, and a war with either would dramatically hurt Atlas."

"Are you sure that we can't take on-" Winter began, but Ironwood waved his hand to stop her.

"I am absolutely certain. Their ship is out of our reach, and its weapons are... worrying." Ironwood said. "Commander Richard said they could blow Atlas out of the sky with a single shot, and I don't intend to find out if he was speaking metaphorically."

Winter closed the folder, she'd read enough. "What do you need me to do?"

"Right now, I need you to keep this quiet." Ironwood said. "I know that you have a sister at Beacon and a brother at home, and you will get the chance to tell them about this, but for the love of the gods, not right now."

"I understand." Winter replied, if the news about this broke in the wrong way, it could lead to catastrophe. "Is that all?"

"For now, but I will warn you, I'm going to need an envoy from the Atlesian Military to oversee the conflict." Ironwood said. "I'm going to contact the UNSC, and see if they will allow you to stay on their vessel."

"What!?" Winter asked after a moment of conflict. "You not only want me to literally travel to space, but you also want me to oversee a war against Atlas, a war against my father?" She found it difficult to believe. This was a war against her family, however twisted that word might have become. The UNSC was targeting a company with her name on it. "They would never allow me on their ship."

"That is exactly what I am ordering you to do." Ironwood dispassionately stated. "If they want our continued support for their war, then they will. Commander Richards wishes to avoid civilian casualties and your mission will be to prevent them from attacking civilian targets."

Winter paused, that was a far different assignment than she had originally anticipated. "Why me?"

"Because I can trust you, and because you have relevant knowledge and experience on the situation." Ironwood answered. "I recognize that you may be conflicted on the matter, but this situation demands that we perform our duty, regardless of personal feelings."

"I still don't understand, you have other operatives who would be far better for this assignment." Winter protested, careful not to overstep any major boundaries with her words.

Ironwood sighed, she could tell that he wanted to outright dismiss her concerns, but instead, he addressed them. "If you mean the Ace Operatives, I require them for other pressing matters. Council officials would be similarly inconvenient, due to their lack of military knowledge. You have all of the necessary skills, and I have decided that you are the best Operative for this assignment."

Winter paused, and considered his words. It was true that most of the Atlesian Government was militarily incompetent, and even the Ace Operatives lacked any substantial diplomatic experience. She quietly cursed the fact that her father had ensured she had received ample training in that regard.

"Have I made myself clear?" Ironwood asked, his voice carrying an abundance of authority.

Although she was still conflicted about the matter she knew better than to question the General's judgment. Orders were orders, no matter how much she may have disagreed with them. Winter's answer was immediate. "Crystal."

**Authors note: according to a Remnant timezone chart I found, Menagerie is around five hours ahead of Atlas, a similar time gap as the UK and eastern USA, just something I found interesting.**

**On a completely different note, I was considering restarting my Star Wars crossover, is that something any of you would be interested in reading? If so, let me know.**


	27. Chapter 27

**The Dominion, Bridge**

**October 7th, 1140 Menagerie time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar**

The meeting in the War Room had been cut short by Lieutenant Clark, as something on the ground demanded his attention. But before he and Bradford had returned to the Bridge, however, Ben had delivered a message from Thomas, containing his own suggestion on their next course of action.

Thomas had been doing a lot of work for a sick man. He had focused on what unforeseen problems might cause serious trouble in the future, and the conclusion he had reached from all of his research was simple, the UNSC needed money, and fast. Having a somewhat stable economic presence would offer them a reliable way to resupply their depleting resources, and also give them more diplomatic options.

_Did he really feel the need to explain why money is useful?_ Richard thought, slightly insulted, but more so curious as to Thomas's thought process.

He had also suggested that the ever tenuous morale of the Dominion's crew would be stabilized if they were able to start issuing Basic Pay, as well as Hazard Pay for the Marines on the ground. However, he had also pointed out that it would need to be a constant point of focus for them, and that Morale would likely get worse before it got better.

_That's fair enough, I did overhear a few Marines wondering if they'll get back pay for all of this crap, and they certainly deserve it._ Richard thought. He wasn't horribly bothered by not getting paid, especially after he'd realized that he probably held more destructive power at his fingertips than anyone on Remnant, a fact that substantially disturbed him.

The biggest obstacle that Thomas had listed was that their own money was worthless. He had listed out a whole page of reasons why the UEG Credit now carried more value with its zinc and plastic content than as any sort of currency. His suggestion was to issue Remnant's standardized currency, the Lien, in its place. However, they only had a proportionally insignificant amount of it, and almost all of it was in physical bank-notes. Thomas had provided a handful of suggested methods to get more, but evidently he hadn't gotten very far. He'd also written half a novel's worth of political observations, but all of that would have to wait until they had more time.

_Maybe we could combine his and Bradford's ideas- _Richard thought, but had his thoughts interrupted by someone speaking to him.

"Sir, incoming transmission from General Ironwood!" Gillespie called out, silencing the chatter of the Bridge.

"Patch him through." Richard ordered, quietly dreading the oncoming conversation.

"This oughta be good." Bradford muttered, taking his position by Richard's side.

Ironwood's unwaveringly professional expression quickly filled one of the view screens that lined the front of the Bridge. He looked somewhat tired, but showed no indication that it was affecting his disposition.

"Hello, Commander." Ironwood said dryly.

"Hello General, what's the occasion?" Richard asked, afraid he already knew.

Ironwood gave him a look that Richard couldn't quite discern, but it seemed to be based around some form of reluctance. "I was hoping that we could clarify and expand upon our existing Rules of Engagement, as what we have now is not good enough, especially if this conflict continues for the foreseeable future."

Richard wasn't surprised. "I agree, we should formalize our rules of engagement. I assume you have some major concerns that provoked this, maybe those would be a good place to start."

Ironwood quietly nodded. "My greatest concern is the lives of innocent civilians, something I hope that you and your military can empathize with." he stated, the subtle inquiry was not lost on Richard.

"We have standing orders to protect civilian lives. While Atlas may not fall under official UNSC jurisdiction, we have no desire to target noncombatants." Richard answered the challenge, well aware that they had the means to prove their lack of ill-intentions.

"That's reassuring." Ironwood said, his expression unflinching, although his tone did lighten somewhat. "Then I assume you understand that due to the nature of this conflict, it is going to be a considerable challenge to avoid collateral damage."

_We were just talking about raiding his Nation's largest shipyard._ Richard thought, recognizing the hint of bitter irony. He fought to squish the concern he had that the General had somehow found out about their plans. It was an absolute impossibility, given their advanced cybersecurity and the fact that only Bradford, Lieutenant Clark, Curie, and himself were the only ones aware of the conversation, and yet, he couldn't help but be paranoid regardless.

"We're no strangers to difficult situations, General. Our protocols for minimizing civilian casualties have been constantly improved over centuries" Richard stated, aware that they possessed the dreary paperwork to back up that claim as well.

"I don't doubt that." Ironwood simply replied. "But I also recognize that you're operating on minimal information and that you might inadvertently strike civilian targets, believing them to be your enemies, and that isn't the only risk."

_Ah, here it is._ Richard thought, anticipating the oncoming scrutiny of their recent operation.

The General paused for a moment before continuing. "I received a report regarding your recent strike on one of the SDC's mining facilities, the startling number of civilian casualties are absolutely unacceptable."

Bradford tensed up, even more than usual. Richard could almost feel the anger emanate from practically everyone on the bridge, and he could put the reasons together in his head effortlessly. _It's not like he's sending in his own troops, he'd rather let the aliens die for him._

Richard opened his mouth to respond, only certain that his response would be harsh, but Ironwood softly waved his hand, and Richard decided to let him explain himself. "You did what you could, I know, and from what I've been told your soldiers fought valiantly. But far too many innocents lost their lives, and I will not take any further risks with the lives of Atlesian citizens, I hope you can understand that."

Richard glared at the man. "So, you're going to start deploying your own forces?"

"I've been forced to divert forces from elsewhere to keep Atlas itself safe, I do not have the time or men to deal with Jacques Schnee and his rampant negligence. What I am proposing is to cooperate on the informational front." Ironwood said.

Richard lowered his glare, but he was still far from satisfied with the man's assessment of the conflict. "Our current intelligence is perfectly serviceable."

_He knows I'm lying._ Richard quickly realized, but did not back down.

"Is it?" Ironwood asked doubtfully, his tone souring somewhat. "Browsing the CCTS and putting some satellites in orbit hardly grants you the same degree of information as the Atlesian Military. I would ask you to give us a little more credit, after all, it is our Kingdom."

Richard fought back the urge to sigh in frustration, he was never born to be a politician. "That's a very good point. Are you planning on offering us a solution?"

"In a manner of speaking." Ironwood vaguely answered, which immediately made Richard nervous. "I was hoping to solve two problems at once, namely, these conversations are taking up a large portion of my schedule, and I have a lot to do already."

_So he didn't call us to discuss military protocol, hardly surprising. Still, I don't know if I can blame him, it is certainly a dreary topic._ Richard thought. _Still, I wonder what he actually wants._

"Then what would you propose?" Richard asked, deciding to take the bait.

"I was hoping you would allow a representative of the Atlesian military to advise your forces... from aboard your starship." Ironwood said, rather bluntly.

Richard's immediate gut reaction was a definitive no, but his discipline kept him from voicing it. He noticed Bradford tense up slightly, and he could almost feel the general attitude of the Bridge slightly sour.

"All I ask, is that you hear me out." Ironwood added, seeing the shift in mood.

"Well, you certainly have my... our full attention." Richard said, deciding that he would subtly inform the General that Richard was not the only one skeptical of letting foreign agents on board.

"Thank you, genuinely, I recognize how this would seem if our situations were reversed." Ironwood said, his tone lightening again. "But I still wish to point out that you are conducting military operations on our soil, and you're doing it with marginal oversight, military or otherwise."

Richard frowned. "We've been doing just fine without your oversight… but I see your point. Still, all of this depends on who you plan on sending."

Ironwood brightened up slightly, evidently, he thought he was making progress, although Richard was still unconvinced. "I did have someone in mind. She is a talented Specialist, a good soldier, an intelligent individual and has my utmost trust... Specialist Winter Schnee."

Once again, Richard stifled his gut reaction. "I trust that "Schnee" is simply a common surname?"

"I'm afraid not, Winter is the daughter of Jacques Schnee, CEO of the Schnee Dust Company." Ironwood said, his voice carrying that same hint of reluctance that Richard had spotted earlier.

_Does he actually expect me to accept this "offer"?_ Richard thought, his patience expended. "General, with all due respect, is this some kind of bad joke?"

"Not quite, Commander." Ironwood said, unflinchingly. "Winter has earned my trust twenty-times over, and halted more tragedies than I care to count. If her loyalty were at all in question, she would not be in our military."

"Her father is complacent in a slavery operation that would embarrass the Eridani Insurrection, forgive me if I'm worried about who you want representing you. Not to mention, you want to send her aboard the Dominion itself." Richard countered, not particularly caring about Ironwood's lack of context.

"People are not responsible for the sins of their fathers. Besides, she no longer has ties to her father, for unrelated... domestic issues." Ironwood said, which did little to stop Richard's concern. "I understand you have reasons to doubt my intentions, but I don't care for Jacques Schnee and his crimes any more than you do. My methods of dealing with him may differ substantially, but ask yourself this, why would I surround myself with people whose loyalties lie with him, and not with Atlas?"

_Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer._ Richard mentally quoted from his ONI training, although it was obvious that thought wasn't occurring to Ironwood. That same training taught him what to look for in a person's statement, to gauge if they were telling the truth, and while Richard had never had a talent for questioning, he could see that Ironwood genuinely believed his question was valid. _He doesn't doubt Winter's loyalties, but this does present a valuable opportunity._

"I'm afraid that this is less of an offer than I am making it sound." The General's voice was stern, cold, and as blunt as could have been expected. Even as his words came across as threatening. "This is not a request, this is a demand, from the council itself. The council is unwilling to bend on this matter. If you refuse, then any and all support and military cooperation with the UNSC will be terminated immediately."

The General's words left the room both surprised and concerned. It was a rather bold move from the Council of Atlas. They were threatening somebody they had no hopes of defeating, with something that sounded far too close to an ultimatum for Richard to feel comfortable.

Theoretically, a tactical victory against Atlas was possible, even likely. A single MAC round from orbit would knock Atlas off of its delicate balance and smash it into Mantle, effectively ending the war with a single shot. But the resulting Civilian death toll would be catastrophic, and the resulting Grimm attacks would strain humanity to the breaking point.

But it was a strategic victory that they needed, and with only a single company of ground troops, a prolonged ground campaign was doomed to fail. Richard briefly considered accepting the offer, but that would open the door for the Council to start throwing more demands at them, demands that were far less reasonable than a single military advisor being stationed on the Dominion.

_It's almost comparable to hostage-negotiation, only their whole Kingdom is the hostage._ Richard grimly thought, well aware that with a single order he could level the Continent the small nation stood upon.

"That's certainly a difficult decision, General." Richard said, unable to keep all of the bitterness out of his words. "Give us a moment to consider this "offer" of yours."

Gillespie paused the feed to Ironwood, leaving them free to speak their minds without fear of repercussions. The General's face vanished, and the bridge chatter resumed, much quieter than normal, however.

"It's an ultimatum, they want their power back." Bradford grumbled. "Are you actually considering this?"

"What choice do we have?" Richard asked, somewhat disturbed. "If we go to war, the only way we would win is with WMDs, and Ironwood damn well knows it."

"He's bluffing, trying to play on your conscience." Bradford stated firmly. "There's no way he would actually risk the lives of everyone in his Nation."

Richard paused, thinking about Bradford's words, but dismissed them. "He may not think he has a choice, and desperation can drive a man to make some extremely questionable decisions."

Bradford remained silent, giving Richard time to think. On paper, he wasn't necessarily against the idea, having someone aboard who knew Atlas's culture and geography would be an invaluable asset. But Ironwood's choice of advisors couldn't be a coincidence, he had to be testing Richard's resolve.

"Maybe a bit of topical research is in order, before we decide our next move." Richard quietly said. "Curie, are you available?"

Her holographic form quickly joined them. "I am, momentarily. I can set aside other projects if you need me to-"

"Get me whatever information you can on "Specialist Winter Schnee"." Richard ordered, already knowing what she was going to say. "I am authorizing the use of electronic intrusion software, regardless of the target."

"Aye, one moment." Curie said, the naval lingo still foreign to her traditional accent.

"Regardless of target?" Bradford asked. "Wouldn't the Atlesian military would have all the information we're looking for? Well, either them or the SDC."

"Maybe, maybe not." Richard replied. "When you're putting together a profile on someone, turn over every stone, and leave nothing unrecorded. The devil is in the details, and all it takes is one critical piece of information to find what you're looking for."

Bradford nodded. "I can understand that, even if it's not my speciality."

"Oh, do you specialize in something besides Command?" Richard asked, somewhat jokingly, knowing they had a moment to kill while they waited for Curie.

"Hydration Equipment Operation." Bradford said, not shifting his tone from it's usual seriousness.

_Alright, not what I would have guessed, but fair enough._ Richard thought, somewhat amused despite the circumstances.

"Monsieur, my task is complete." Curie said, as a surprisingly small data package appeared on his datapad.

"Thank you, Curie. Did you notice anything predominantly unusual about her military career in your search?" Richard asked, skimming the data himself.

"Only that it was so... textbook." Curie said, evidently not knowing how to voice her observations. "She has a litany of commendations and a track record of combat victories. And I could not find any notable faults in her loyalty, something that I admit doesn't make much sense, given her familial history, although I admit that my expertise on that topic is quite insubstantial."

A bit of sympathy for Curie hit Richard. _Yeah, I guess me and Ben are really all she's ever had, and maybe Kurt. I can't help but wonder how he would've handled all this._

"I did find her Semblance rather interesting, although it is not entirely relevant for this topic." Curie concluded.

"And nothing was sanitized, no data-scrubbing?" Bradford asked, his tone offering no small amount of disbelief.

"I found nothing that suggested that." Curie answered, her voice also indicating a tone of suspicion. "Did you need anything else from me?"

"No, I believe that was all, thank you." Richard said, before Curie's hologram vanished. "Give me your thoughts here, Bradford."

He took a deep breath, his expression filled with worry. "I think Ironwood's testing us, and that he's using Winter to do it. He knows we'll question his ultimatum because of who she's related to, and he's using that against us."

"Well, in that case, maybe we oughta take a closer look at Winter herself, get some insight into what he's planning." Richard quietly replied, scrolling through the data package, before stopping at a file that caught his eye. "Here, look at this, it's Specialist Schnee's banking information."

Bradford took the datapad, and quickly frowned as he examined the information. "Isn't her dad the most wealthy person on the planet?"

"That's correct." Richard said, glad that Bradford was catching on.

"So why does she only have the bank account of a rank and file soldier?" Bradford asked, handing the datapad back.

"Because, if you look here, her ties with her father are tumultuous... at best." Richard said, scrolling downwards to Curie's personal notes on that specific topic. He could understand why Curie didn't understand, but Winter may as well have been disowned with how her father thought of her. "Remember how Ironwood mentioned domestic issues?"

"Yeah... damn, that's a lot of scandals." Bradford commented, reading the headlines of a dozen articles of how she had passed up her father's line of succession in order to join the military.

"I think we may have misread him." Richard stated, overwhelmingly surprised at his own words. "Maybe he just wants to help us, even if the Council wants to do something regrettable."

"You think... Ironwood's telling the truth?" Bradford asked, his tone implying that he couldn't believe what Richard was saying. "If he's full of it-"

"Well it's either that, or he's a damn good liar." Richard interrupted. "Either way, I'm not sure we can truly afford to say no. Our public perception right now is rather low and if the Atlesian Council comes out against us..."

"We're never going to win these people over, and we'll never beat the Grimm, or the SDC." Bradford finished, now seemingly more accepting of Richard's thought process.

Richard sighed, before turning back towards the Operations station. "Ensign, resume the feed."

He did as he was commanded, and soon, Ironwood's steely expression once again found itself on one of the bridge monitors.

"General, I have made my decision." Richard said. "We will receive your advisor, and do our best to cooperate with them. While I certainly have my reservations about this, I hope that this can serve as a way to start building bridges between our... organizations."

_Nation didn't sound right, not when we have a smaller population than a passenger liner._ Richard thought, recognizing the difficulty he had experienced in selecting his words.

"I'm glad to hear that." Ironwood said, his expression shifting to one of relief.

"There will be some limitations, of course." Richard quickly added, not willing to completely bend the knee. "Certain areas of the ship are extremely sensitive, and will be strictly off-limits, namely Weapons and Engineering. I hope you can understand that I wouldn't let any foreign agent or citizen in these areas, as the damage they could potentially cause would be catastrophic."

"That is completely understandable." Ironwood said with a nod. "I'll send word along, and I'll give her access to your contact information, you can speak with her yourself."

"Good, we'll hash out the details of this assignment with her personally." Richard said. "Was that all, General?"

"That was all for now." Ironwood said, his tone still noticeably less intense, although it was still far from friendly. The feed ended, and the General vanished.

Bradford turned to look at him. "Well Sir, this is either going to turn out very well... or get us all killed."

Richard nodded, he'd thought of that. "We'll have contingencies in place, in case the worst happens. Get me two members of Fireteam Onyx, and issue them plasma rifles, they'll be acting as Miss Schnee's' guides around the ship, and as our first line of defense should the worst happen."

"Covenant weapons?" Bradford asked, although he began to carry out the order regardless.

"Curie has a working theory, that plasma might be the key to how we even the odds against Aura." Richard explained. "But we don't know for sure, of course. I'd rather not test the theory, we don't have a lot, but we both know what plasma can do to a person."

There was a distinct hint of disgust in the back of his mind. He didn't enjoy the possibility of using Plasma weapons against their own kind, but he reassured himself that it was just a precaution. As long as General Ironwood or Specialist Schnee weren't planning anything nefarious, everything would turn out just fine.

**The Dominion**

**October 7th, 1203 Menagerie time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar**

Fairfire walked down one of the many titanium corridors that lined the Dominion, carrying with her a crate loaded with what would probably be considered top-tier contraband by the admiralty.

_Well, if they want it, they can damn well come and get it._ Fairfire thought with a devilish grin. _I guess that's one upside to all this shit, is we can use the Covie stuff for a change._

She reached the room she was looking for, a somewhat large barracks intended to hold a platoon-strength unit of Marines. Her understrength squad didn't even fill a quarter of the beds, but there weren't any other Marine units that took priority over them, and likely never would be. Yu and Meadows were present, disinterestedly playing some sort of card game on one of the tables. There was also one of the helljumpers she hadn't known that well, Private Kowalski, who was sleeping.

_I know Clark wants to keep the comm-relay safe, but I'd appreciate it if he used his own damn leathernecks._ Fairfire thought, dumping the crate unceremoniously before the two conscious ODSTs, Kowalski's only reaction to the noise was a snore.

"Howdy." Fairfire greeted, placing her hand on her hips as her squadmates looked up at her.

"Hey Liz, what's the good news?" Yu asked, eyeing the munitions-grade storage crate.

"New kit, for a very _special_ mission." Fairfire answered, making sure to pronounce "special" as disingenuously as possible.

"Oh boy." Meadows said, rolling his eyes. "Tell me, which organ am I gonna need replaced this time?"

"If I had to guess, anything above here." Fairfire said, drawing a line across her neck with a finger, before opening the biometric lock on the crate.

Yu opened it, admiring the contents as she gave a menacing cackle. "Hot damn, and we get to keep these?"

"All yours, for now. The Commander says you'll need to keep them on your person at all times, and leave them in here while you're sleeping. Don't go blasting them off at the range either, we still can't recharge this crap." Fairfire answered, relaying some of the basic instructions she had been given as well.

_I wonder if the Commander would let me try out one of those gravity hammers..._ Fairfire thought, before getting her mind back on track.

"If I ever get married, that man better propose to me with one of these." Yu joked, drawing one of the Covenant plasma rifles and admiring the alien inscriptions.

Meadows appeared far more skeptical about the new equipment, although he also retrieved and cradled his new weapon. "Somehow, I get the feeling that we're getting these for a reason."

Fairfire smiled, his perception was still sharp. "That's correct Sergeant, Yu and yourself are bodyguard duty for a very important individual."

"Babysitting?!" Yu demanded, suddenly disappointed. "Who?!"

"A representative of the Atlesian military, she's also the daughter of the head Dickhead on Remnant." Fairfire said, her disingenuous smile the only thing masking her own grand displeasure.

"Hold on just a minute." Yu responded, her voice a bit strained. "You're telling me, that we're letting one of those damned crooks onto the Dominion?"

"I don't think so, this has to be planetside, right?" Meadows guessed, although Fairfire could tell that he was just being hopeful.

Fairfire gave a short, unhappy nod. "I'm afraid not, and it ain't so simple. Apparently she ain't with the SDC..."

"Like hell she isn't!" Yu protested, gesturing wildly. "Who the hell knows where her fucking-"

"Corporal, that's enough." Fairfire calmly interrupted, although her voice carried more weight than even when she yelled. "I am well aware of the obvious fucking problems with this assignment, and I have my own personal reservations as well. But this isn't our call, orders are orders, and we're gonna follow em', got it?"

Meadows gave a reluctant groan, but fell in line. Fairfire could tell Yu briefly considered blatant insubordination, and wasn't entirely certain what the hotheaded ODST would do, but she also backed down.

_It's when they blindly follow dodgy orders, that's when you worry about their loyalty._ Fairfire thought. "Thank you, Corporal. Now, the Commander has considered the possibility that our incoming visitor, one Specialist Winter Schnee, is a hostile infiltrator."

Yu's eyes flickered with realization, and a hint of satisfaction. "I see, we're not bodyguards, we're watchdogs."

Fairfire nodded. "In a manner of speaking. If she reaches for the nukes or takes out a crewman, you put her down, hard."

"I think we're doing a bit of both, bodyguard and watchdog." Meadows commented, pulling another odd piece of Covenant equipment out of the box. "Woah, jackal gauntlets?"

"That's right, we only have four, and you get two of them." Fairfire said, watching as he ran a brief diagnostic on the shield gauntlet. "That being said, on the off chance that she's not with the enemy-"

"Play nice, got it." Yu finished, somewhat snappily.

Fairfire realized quickly that she hadn't received the message, and snatched the plasma rifle out of her hands, regaining her full attention. "Hey, look at me. You have a job to do, you guard this lady, and you keep your eyes peeled for any suspicious activity, that's when you start shooting, are we clear?"

"Yes Sir." Yu said, and Fairfire trusted that she had received the message.

"Play this safe, I don't know what I'd do without you morons." Fairfire stated. "Oh, and try to avoid starting another international crisis."

Meadows gave a shrug. "Given some of the other crap on Remnant we've seen, I fail to see how bad this can go."

**Atlas**

**Alliman Surface Excavation, Site 1 "Point Hindenburg"**

**October 7th, 1800 Atlas time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar**

"So that's why they call it "Surface excavation"." Ben muttered to himself, examining his target with the help of his helmet's visual magnification system.

"There are five different sites with the same label, I do not understand the purpose." Curie replied. "Point Hindenburg is one of two that actually conduct surface mining."

"Maybe it's the name of the local region, or some form of political maneuvering." Ben offered, although he was far from certain. "I don't suppose it matters that much, it'll be a crater when we're done."

"But, it is a crater." Curie pointed out rather sassily.

"It'll be a bigger, less organized, crater then." Ben replied, although he was also somewhat humored.

The mine in question was more than four kilometers away, with Ben lying prone on a nearby hill, performing reconnaissance for an orbital strike. The other two Marines stayed with the Lynx that they arrived in, that way they could perform a rapid escape. It's defenses were notably weaker than Point Wilhelm, with only a little over a dozen guards, as well as a notable lack of slaves. The guards had deployed some sort of large, static cannon on top of one of the buildings, probably a defense against larger Grimm types.

_Just like we hoped, no civilians, maybe we can go home early._ Ben thought, giving a quiet smirk. "Curie, you seeing any Civies down there?"

"I do not, it would appear that the intelligence we recovered from Point Wilhelm is accurate." Curie confirmed. "Shall I establish communication with the Dominion?"

"Negative, let me figure out where we're targeting first." Ben replied. "I know the rest of you is overstretched already, and a firing solution like that would take some time, and I'd rather not be here when the Grimm show up."

"That is very good thinking." Curie acknowledged.

Ben took a more broad-scale look at the mine, and noted it's rather steep incline, as well as a small group of concrete and metal structures clustered away from the mine itself. His view deeper into the pit itself was limited from his position, but the spy drone flying overhead offered a far better perspective, revealing both the lack of slaves and a large amount of exposed Dust Crystals.

"Curie, how volatile is Dust in that state?" Ben asked.

"Rather potently, in its crystalline state, it is similar in composition to quartz, although it's explosive potential varies drastically." Curie answered. "Almost all of my information on the material is sourced from Remnant's publicly available information, so it's accuracy is debatable."

Ben frowned slightly, this might make things more difficult. "What model warheads do we plan on using?"

"The delivery vehicle will be an old M30 Trebuchet Orbital Support Missile, loaded with a hybrid composition warhead." Curie stated. "Were the strike to be conducted on open ground in test conditions, the resulting blast would have a force equal to around a kiloton of TNT."

_A bit light, by orbital weaponry's standards._ Ben thought, although that didn't solve the problem. "What are the chances that we would start a chain-reaction if the blast impacted the dust?"

"Almost certain." Curie confirmed, now seeing the problem. "If we were to do that, we would not be able to recover any of the Dust, or any further intelligence."

_And that would violate our standing orders to collect both of those things._ Ben thought. "Let's call it in, get some instructions. Can you patch us through?"

"Affirmative, although there will be some delay in transmission, there is some sort of anomaly affecting our systems." Curie confirmed, routing a signal from Ben's helmet to the Lynx, which would be able to establish a secure connection to the Dominion. "Signal is established, go ahead."

"Dominion, this is Onyx, do you read?" Ben said.

The response took almost ten seconds, but Lieutenant Commander Bradford's voice came through, somewhat distorted. "Onyx this is Dominion, barely. What's the situation?"

"We've completed our reconnaissance, no Civilians are present, but the Dust in the mine would possibly be destroyed by an orbital strike, and any enemy intelligence along with it." Ben relayed. "Please advise."

The response took slightly longer, before Bradford spoke again. "Onyx, what's the disposition of enemy forces?"

"Approximately a dozen foot mobiles, no Specialists. At least one static artillery emplacement, as well as some light vehicles, which seem to be unarmed." Ben reported, visually double checking his report, which all seemed to check out.

"Wait one." Bradford said, before speaking again several seconds later. "Dominion copies all, we're working on a solution now. Rendezvous with your team and await further instruction, out."

_Simple orders are good orders._ Ben thought, before getting back onto his feet and beginning the short trek back to the Lynx.

When he returned, he found the two Marines he'd be placed in Command of fiddling with the radio, one in each of the two front seats. The Lynx was parked in a small indent in the snow, big enough to easily hide the vehicle and it's crew from any passing patrols, while also providing feasible escape.

"Is there some kind of problem?" Ben asked, his tone implying that he was going to be very unhappy if they were just toying with it.

"We lost signal to the Dominion!" The driver shouted. "Helmet comms are out too!"

"Are we being jammed?" The navigator asked. "They shouldn't know we're here."

A pinch of frustration suddenly gripped Ben's forehead like a vice. "Yes, they shouldn't. Curie, what can you tell us?"

"I am analyzing the equipment, both in the Lynx as well as your helmets, it seems that something similar to electronic jamming is happening to us, although it's... different." Curie answered, using the helmets speakers to brief the Marines as well. "It's as if the antenna is transmitting, but no radio waves emerge."

"What about the motion tracker?" Ben asked, noticing how it wasn't picking up the Warthog right in front of him, or the Marines.

"Also neutralized, how peculiar." Curie said. "Perhaps this is one of the regional anomalies I have been studying-"

"Sergeant, behind you!" The Marine in the driver's seat shouted in a frenzied panic, interrupting Curie as she struggled to draw her sidearm. Her partner in the navigator seat quickly followed suit.

Ben turned around, and saw the heavily armored head of some kind of lizard-like Grimm poking its head over the edge of the snow, quietly watching them, although it was aware that it had been noticed, as it emitted a deep hiss at him. He grabbed the MA5B assault rifle off of his back in one well practiced movement, before firing off a long burst of gunfire towards its face. The Marines contributed with their magnums, but most of their shots went wild, likely due to their panic, although one of the large rounds managed to make the creature flinch.

The Grimm's bone armor held strong as it placed a foot, lined with raptor talons, into the edge of the snowbank, getting a better stance. It used its newfound leverage to launch itself at Ben, it's mouth open wide, revealing row after row of razor-sharp teeth. Time slowed down as the adrenaline kicked in, triggering Spartan Time, which gave him the reflexes needed to roll out of the way, stopping just out of the beast's path.

The Grimm snapped it's jaws shut right where he had been standing, and thanks to its momentum, slammed into the side of the Lynx with enough force to knock it on its right side. It seemed the Driver had been smart enough to slam the door in its face, preventing her from being devoured.

Ben examined the beast as it brought itself about to face him. It resembled some sort of armored quadruped lizard, that was around the same size as the Lynx. It's tail was heavily armored by overlapping bony scales, capped with some sort of spiky club-like tip. It almost resembled a wingless dragon, but it's head was an indecipherable mess of bone, strange red lining, and around a dozen yellow, hatred-filled eyes, positioned to cover many different angles.

Ben fired off the rest of his magazine, but the bullets failed to penetrate the beast's skull, leaving Ben vulnerable as it prepared for another lunge. He ejected the empty magazine, but realized he would not be able to load a fresh one in time.

"Ben, dodge left, load Shredder Rounds!" Curie quickly instructed.

Ben complied, leaping to the side, before being struck mid-air by the Grimm's tail. He was knocked off of his course by the unexpected attack, and suffered a small amount of damage to his shields. He also landed rougher than intended, while the Grimm was able to perform a far more graceful landing.

_That thing's far nimbler than it's armor suggests!_ Ben bitterly thought, getting back to his feet. As the Grimm prepared to deliver another strike, a blast of buckshot peppered it's scaly flank, and it gave a displeased hiss in response.

"Come get some!" The navigator Marine shouted from behind Ben, diverting the Grimm's attention long enough for him to get to his feet and reload the desired ammunition.

"Target the base of the tail!" Curie practically shouted, her calm demeanor gone, and Ben could see why. If he wasn't quick, the Grimm would strike the Marines and not him, and the Marine could not survive a hit like that.

He adjusted his aim, and realized Curie had noticed something that he hadn't. In order to allow its tail to move more freely, the base of the Grimm's tail was poorly armored, offering a valuable target that could only be struck from it's flank. Ben let loose a long burst, watching as the ammo counter on his gun rapidly declined. The Grimm let out a hateful screech as its tail was savagely torn from its body, before it rapidly burned up into a foul black smoke. It quickly recovered, readying another strike, returning its focus to Ben.

"Dodge this, I need more time!" Curie instructed.

"Negative, I've got him." Ben replied calmly, holding his rifle in his right hand and priming a grenade with the other. With the Grimm's tail neutralized, it only had two offensive weapons left, it's teeth and claws.

As the Grimm lunged, it opened its mouth again, hoping to catch Ben in a fatal bite. Ben took the opportunity to hip fire another burst into it's open mouth, knocking loose dozens of its teeth as he lobbed the grenade into its gaping maw. As he had hoped, the Grimm shut its mouth shut mere moments after the grenade entered, a delayed reaction from when he had blown it's teeth out.

The only flaw with his plan is that he was still in the way when the beast slammed into him, sending him flying. He managed to land on his feet, but his shields were decimated. Rather conveniently, Ben had been knocked clear of the kill radius of the grenade, so when it exploded, the only casualty was the Grimm.

"That was... certainly creative." Curie commented as Ben got back up to his feet.

"Hey, Sierra, can we get a hand?" The Navigator asked, still leaning against the tipped over Lynx. After retrieving the Driver from the vehicle, Ben flipped it back over and inspected it to make sure it still functioned.

"Jesus Christ Sergeant." The Driver commented, kicking over some of the shrapnel-riddled snow where the Grimm had once stood. "Remind me never to play poker with you, you just stared that thing down like it was nothing."

"I'm not a gambling man." Ben replied, before noticing that the Marine had subconsciously used her helmet radio. "Wait, are our comms back online?"

"Seems like it." The Navigator said, using his own radio to transmit the words. "Maybe the Grimm was blocking us?"

"...Fascinating!" Curie commented. "A Grimm that can manipulate radio waves!"

"That's a bad thing, Curie." The Navigator pointed out, a sentiment Ben quietly agreed with.

"I agree, but think of what we can learn from this!" Curie enthusiastically replied. "We could even manipulate this to our own advantage-"

"It can wait, we need to get back into contact with the Dominion." Ben interrupted, knowing Curie would talk about their discovery all day if she got the chance.

"Actually, they've been trying to contact you, I'll patch them through." Curie replied.

"-repeat, if you can read me, respond immediately!" A notably agitated Bradford said over the radio.

"Dominion, this is Onyx, solid copy. We encountered a Grimm that interfered with our radio signals, we managed to kill it but it was noisy, our cover is likely blown." Ben reported, keeping his message quick and informative.

Bradford's response was almost immediate. "Understood Onyx. Interrogative, what's your status?"

"Green." Ben simply replied.

"Understood Onyx, your new orders are to link up with Echo team and assault the mine, take any prisoners you can, but don't take any chances." Bradford instructed.

Ben nodded, mostly to himself. With the Lynx from the other recon team, they would be able to outmatch the defending garrison, even while outnumbered. "Onyx copies all, we'll get it done."

"Make sure of it, Dominion out." Bradford concluded, cutting the connection.

"What now Sergeant?" The driver asked, as she performed a quick inspection of her own weapon.

"We're linking up with team two, and then we're going to knock that mine out." Ben replied, taking his position on the Lynx's rotary gun. "Saddle up, we're Oscar Mike."


	28. Chapter 28

**Salem's Castle**

**October 7th, 1808 Atlas time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar**

Doctor Watts had managed to put together a surprisingly decent laboratory, given the isolated location that he now worked at. Salem was surprisingly cooperative in getting what he needed, but he'd quickly realized that she had a limit to her patience and that there were some things too trivial to ask for. Still, he got the impression that his efforts were appreciated, and genuinely wanted, which was more than he'd ever had at Atlas.

She'd also begun to ask for his input on her latest Grimm creations, mostly in terms of their overall design and purpose. He was still a bit uncomfortable around the creatures, even though Salem had them on a tight metaphorical leash. He chalked it up to all of the disturbing things that he had discovered while trying to think of ways to kill them.

_At least I didn't end up like Merlot._ Watts thought, as he inspected the latest Grimm Salem had brought to his lab. Although Salem's attention was drawn to some of the knick-knacks that he had on some of the tables, failed projects and half-finished designs that he still needed to work on.

"So, Doctor, be honest, what do you think?" She asked without looking, the exact inflection of her tone hard to discern, which was fairly normal.

It was some sort of large lizard, with obvious avian inspiration in the legs and talons. In many ways, it resembled a wingless, armored dragon. The most notable offensive weapon that it possessed was a sort of mace-like structure built into its tail, which could likely deliver a critical blow if used correctly. The beast's head was the most notable part, with over a dozen eyes dotted around the head, surrounded by a heavy bone-mask. Concealed within the back of its head, a small orange bulb was buried into the beast's flesh, although Watts imagined that as it grew the strange bulb would be covered by more bone plating.

"The armor pattern is impressive, if I didn't know any better, I would assume it was a bit of a burden on the beast." Watts commented, knowing full well that speed was one of Grimm's best abilities. "Although the gaps on the belly and the base of the tail could use some attention."

Salem hummed. "I thought about that, but the purpose it serves negates its need for protection on its belly. If it is struck in such a vulnerable position, it has already failed."

Watts frowned, he couldn't piece together the purpose of the creature, and he hated not knowing things. "So, an ambush predator?"

Salem picked up one of the objects, a failed attempt on his part to create an improved hard light emitter. "In a manner of speaking, it's an infiltrator. The crystal in its head serves as a way of rendering radio technology useless, leaving it with an easy target."

Watts nodded. "Eliminate them while they can't call for help, that's certainly an effective strategy."

Salem frowned, and placed the object back where she had found it. "Yes, that's what I thought as well. But something unexpected had happened..."

Another Grimm floated into the room, one of the jellyfish-like Seers, a utility that Salem had made him very familiar with. And yet, every time she used one, it seemed to gain some new ability.

"One of these new Grimm had an unexpected encounter with the aliens in Atlas." Salem said, evidently displeased.

The surface of the Seer's dome shimmered, revealing a snowy tundra that gently bobbed along with the Grimm's head. The Grimm was stalking past some deep and large footprints, two notable traits that made him instantly interested.

"Ah... androids, I understand your interest now-" Watts began, but Salem waved her hand.

"Don't let your arrogance undermine your perception, Arthur." Salem said, silencing him quickly. "Use your eyes, not your mouth, and watch what happened."

Watts watched as the Grimm crested a small hill, revealing that it was actually overlooking a small pit. Inside was a vehicle, some kind of lightly armored snowmobile, and standing beside it was the same heavily-armored human that he'd seen fight the Geist in Menagerie. The passengers of the vehicle panicked as soon as they saw the Grimm, somewhat amusingly, but it also spoke to their lack of experience with the creatures.

"If they aren't used to fighting Grimm, I wonder what it is they do fight." Watts commented, as the Grimm steadied itself for a pounce.

"Other humans, no doubt." Salem dismissed, although Watt's attention was focused on the impossible speed with which the armored human reacted to the pouncing Grimm, which slammed somewhat unceremoniously into the snowmobile.

"How can he move that fast? Maybe a Semblance, or Aura manipulation? " Watts asked, somewhat surprised.

"They don't have auras, they don't even know what they are." Salem said, shooting down his theory immediately.

As he spoke, he watched the fight continue, although his attention was diverted. "That just raises more questions, especially since that suit must be quite the burden."

"That is why I wanted your input, Arthur." Salem said, taking great deliberation with her words.

He thought for a moment, watching as the armored soldier took an apparently damaging shot at the Grimm with a notably fast-firing weapon. "He's the same one from Menagerie, it's entirely possible he's a unique case."

Salem raised an eyebrow. "Lionheart said they had a little over a thousand people on board, who's to say that this isn't just the armor that a whole squad wears?"

"We would have seen more by now, concentrating your best forces has too many advantages to ignore. Go back to the beginning, and listen closely." Watts instructed, and was somewhat surprised that she listened, although he suspected she was just humoring him.

Rewatching the start of the encounter, Watts distinctly made out two different voices, yet neither of the vehicle's passengers opened their mouths to speak.

"He, or she, talks to themselves." Watts pointed out.

"No... to someone within him...maybe within the armor?" Salem guessed. "Their communication equipment was broken, so it's unlikely that someone else was talking to them from far away..."

"An A.I, perhaps, within a suit of powered armor?" Watts guessed, scratching his chin. "For all I know, they could have developed fully sentient A.I's, with unmatched computational capabilities."

Salem frowned. "What does that mean for our plans?"

"It means they may have some unforeseen capabilities, especially on the software front," Watts said, somewhat frustrated. "It's no matter, I beat James, I'll beat these aliens as well. Besides, even the most advanced A.I. has drawbacks to it, it's simply a matter of finding and exploiting them."

"I hope so, Watts. Prove that you still have a degree of worth to me." Salem instructed, leaving a chill to run down his spine as she left.

**The Dominion, Starboard Hangar**

**October 7th, 1812 Atlas time, 2552 UNSC military Calendar**

The "Pelican" that the UNSC soldiers had picked her up in was far larger than Winter had realized from the news, over twice the size of Atlas's Manta-type Airships. The interior however, was around the same size, although far more streamlined and utilitarian. There was no sort of decoration or novelty present throughout the whole ship, and the only markings that decorated it possessed obvious military purpose.

_A strictly military vehicle, somewhat crude, but built for efficiency._ Winter thought, somewhat envious, as her own airship had its fair share of reliability issues. _Although I suppose it's certainly possible that this vehicle has those problems as well._

The trip had taken a decent degree of time, and Winter had long since memorized the sights of the cabin around her, which left her with time to think. While a small part of her was excited at being one of the first people from Remnant to ever visit outer space, most of her mind was focused on her little sister. Staying silent was critical to Ironwood's plans, and she would abide by her orders, but she did not have to like doing it.

_She'll pull through when she hears the news, she's a lot stronger than she realizes._ Winter thought, trying to reassure herself. In truth, she was also worried about the rest of her family, although there was far less that she could do to help them. _Whitley is going to take it the hardest._

She was startled by an electronic beep that sounded throughout the cabin, followed by a voice. "Hey, Specialist, we're approaching the Dominion right now. If you wanted to have a look, now's the time."

Winter's curiosity quickly won out, she could certainly afford to take a look. After a somewhat embarrassing moment of trying to figure out the door controls, she joined the Pelican's pilot, a woman by the name of "Fireball", and her co-pilot, in the cockpit. There was a space beside the two seats where she could stand, and look out the front window of the spacecraft.

"I doubt she's gonna be as impressive to you as it was to those civies, given some of those crazy airships you have." Fireball said, giving Winter a friendly nod. "I'll admit it, they're cool as hell."

Winter noticed that Fireball's idle comment implied something that she had not known. "What do you mean? Who else have you brought aboard?"

"Oh, you didn't know?" Fireball replied, surprise evident in her voice. "Ah hell, guess the cats out of the bag now, I should watch my damn mouth."

"Yes, you should." Her co-pilot responded, his melancholy voice implying this wasn't the only time that his partner talked too much, but Fireball ignored his comment.

"Anyway, we launched a rescue op on one of those mines, managed to bust a few civies out, and we took the place down in good order." Fireball explained.

That didn't answer her question. "I was aware of that, but, why bring Civilians to your ship?"

"Treat the injured, which was just about everyone, especially the one guy we took prisoner." Fireball commented, a bit glumly. "But talking like that's no fun, I enjoyed the bit where we got to fight those Grimm things."

"You enjoyed fighting Grimm?" Winter asked, somewhat confused.

"Sure did, always love a good turkey-shoot. We haven't had one of those in a long while." Fireball happily confirmed. "Remember Beta Eridani?"

"Sure do." Her co-pilot replied with a chuckle. "Grunts as far as the eye could see... and a surplus of ammo."

"Heh, that was fun." Fireball responded, turning her attention to the spacecraft's controls. "She'll be coming in to view right around now, look for her running lights."

The Pelican briefly turned, and Winter was met with one of the most oddly beautiful yet terrifying sights that she had ever seen. The UNSC Dominion was absolutely gargantuan, a black behemoth easily twelve times the size of a mainline Atlesian Airship, if one accounted for its monolithic height. The whole ship resembled a giant gun, with a pair of large engine assemblies stretching off of either side of the ship's stern, and a pair of short "wings" that stemmed from the ships central assembly.

Winter's facial expression must have given away her awe, because Fireball gave a brief chuckle. "I take it back, apparently the ol' Dom still makes a hell of an impression."

"Fireball..." her co-pilot chastised, apparently taking a different context from her statement.

Fireball chuckled. "Alright, fine, I'll keep it professional around the lady."

Winter was somewhat embarrassed, she should have been able to contain her emotions better than that. "Yes, well... it certainly exceeded my expectations."

Fireball gave a barely noticeable grin under her helmet. "Oh yeah, she's big alright, but they get a hell of a lot bigger back home."

"It's absolutely goliath, why not just build multiple smaller ships and spread them out?" Winter asked. "Surely putting all your eggs in one basket like that is far too large a risk."

"Well, maybe get a look at a few Covie ships first. I guarantee you'll change your tune real fast." Fireball pointed out. "Believe it or not, that's what this ship is for, it's one of the smaller ones we have."

"I will reserve my judgement, although... I hope that I never get the chance to see one of these Covenant warships." Winter replied.

"So do I ma'am, so do I." Fireball's co-pilot added, before making a few motions with the controls, which Fireball seemed to echo with her own movements.

Fireball turned on some kind of communications system, bringing a video screen in the front seat online. The video screen displayed a man in a naval uniform, whom Winter recognized as one of the UNSC's commanding officers, Lieutenant Commander Bradford.

_Second in command, I believe._ Winter thought, as the UNSC had been rather vague about their ranking structure.

"Dominion, this is Fireball, requesting permission to dock, HVI aboard." Fireball said, which seemed to be a fairly hands-off experience.

_It seems their communication systems aren't just better, they're easier to use._ Winter noted, bitterly recalling how difficult it was to call for support on a standard-issue earpiece.

"Dominion to Fireball, you are cleared for approach. Proceed at speed one-seven-five, starboard docking clamp, automatic approach. Board is green, call the ball, over?"

"Roger that Dominion, I have the ball, beginning approach." Fireball replied.

The Pelican flew under the front "wing" structure of the warship, being retrieved into the ship by a large pneumatic clamp. After being cycled through an airlock, the Pelican was carried via a large overhead rail into the hangar, revealing to Winter many models of vehicle that she hadn't seen before.

Winter kept her expression disciplined, but Fireball picked up on what she was looking at. "They sure are beautiful, aren't they? Especially those Interceptor models of the Sabres, magnificent ships. Of course, I wouldn't trade Marin here for any of them."

_In a rugged, brutish sort of way, I suppose._ Winter silently responded, noticing how the various air and space vehicles had little in the way of decor, presenting a utilitarian and efficient appearance, much like the Pelican. "Marin?"

"Well, you're standing in her, so I figured you would have noticed." Fireball said, giving a thumbs-up to a passing crewmember through the window, who was waving others out of the path of the slowly moving spacecraft.

"The paint on the back of the troop-bay got scratched, so one of the "Marines" signs now says "Marin", and she decided to keep it." Her co-pilot explained.

"Well, it's a pretty name, for a pretty ship." Fireball countered as the Pelican gave a harsh lurch, before coming to a stop. "We're clamped, give the system a minute to run its inspections. and we'll be all set."

"I understand." Winter said, trying to keep her comments strictly professional.

As Fireball had promised, the rear hatch of the dropship popped open after around a minute. Taking a large step out of the dropship and onto the deck, she noticed that most of the crew had their attention fixed on her.

"Hey, you all have work to do, get to it!" Fireball yelled from behind her, snapping the crew out of their curiosity.

_Does she outrank them, or is she just highly respected?_ Winter wondered, aware that she no doubt was making a mockery of the UNSC's customs with her every move.

Fireball dismounted her Pelican, joined by her co-pilot. "I'm afraid this is where we part ways. The XO said that he's got a guide or two for you, and they should be here any minute."

"Specialist Schnee!" A voice called out from further down the deck, although Winter couldn't yet make out the source.

"That would be them, catch you at dinner!" Fireball said, returning her attention to her spacecraft.

Winter turned to face the speaker, and saw a man and a woman approaching her, wearing what looked like lightly armored black jumpsuits. Both of them had exceptionally unusual weapons holstered on their hips, which, combined with their outfits and the way they carried themselves, gave Winter the impression that they were some kind of special forces.

"I presume you are my escort?" Winter asked, giving each of them a quiet inspection.

"That's us." The man responded. "I'm Sergeant Meadows, and this is Corporal Sato. We'll be acting as your guides around the Dominion."

Winter nodded. "Where to first?"

"The Commander wanted to speak with you as soon as you came aboard, so we'll be taking you up to the Bridge." Meadows answered.

"Lead the way." Winter replied, letting the two foreign soldiers take the lead.

Much like Atlas's airships, grey steel corridors dominated the general aesthetic of the Dominion's interior. Structural supports and bulkheads dotted the ship seemingly randomly, although Winter speculated there was a method to their seemingly mad placement. She managed to pick out several unique facilities and rooms, such as a gym, a mess hall, and a unisex bathroom.

"You share bathrooms?" Winter asked, somewhat surprised.

"Oh yeah, and the showers are open too." Yu replied nonchalantly. "That won't be a problem, will it?"

Before she could even begin to muster a response to the Marine's rather egregious question, her partner spoke up. "The Commander has assigned you one of the quarters meant for a Marine officer, and that has a private bathroom. He figured you might not be as... open, about that sort of thing."

Winter paused for a moment before responding. "Well... yes, Your Commander would be entirely correct."

Yu laughed, and Meadows gave a brief chuckle at her expense. "We're just used to it because space is at a premium aboard these things, more toilets means less missiles, and so on."

"I..." Winter began, before stopping herself and forcing herself to be diplomatic. "Well yes, I suppose that does make sense. As long as you all aren't bothered by it, I see no issue."

She didn't elicit another response from them until they arrived at a pair of Marines standing guard outside of a room labeled "Bridge".

"Hey there Meadows, is this the Atlas Spook?" One of the Marines asked, with a degree of hostility.

"Keep it professional, Corporal." Meadows bluntly chastised with a wave of the hand. "The Commander wanted to speak with her."

The Marine gave a short nod, although judging by the Marine's expression, this was far from something he wanted to do. "Go right on through, Sergeant."

_Well, at least they can do their jobs, even if their discipline needs a little work._ Winter critically thought, as the Marine opened the door to the bridge.

Winter's gut reaction was surprise, the bridge of the Dominion was not entirely dissimilar to the bridge of an Atlesian Airship, although quite a bit larger. It also evidently had a much larger staff, as Winter was able to pick out upwards of twenty people operating different stations or assisting those who were. For a few awkward moments of silence, she had the attention of most of the bridge staff.

"As you were." A stern voice boomed throughout the bridge, before one of the officers around a large holographic table approached her. Winter recognized him immediately, Commander Richard Miller. "Specialist Winter."

He offered his hand out to shake, which she accepted. "Commander Miller."

"Please, just call me Richard." He responded, with a politeness that she hadn't expected, but also a hint of doubt. "I apologize, but we'll have to keep introductions short, we have a lot to do."

Winter paused, and said the words she had been rehearsing in her mind since she had left Atlas. "My orders from the General stand, assist in the war effort to the best of my ability, and protect the lives of Atlesian civilians."

_Regardless of how I might feel about it._ Winter thought, no small amount of bitterness inside of her.

His expression didn't change. "That's good, we're going to need your assistance, although I'm sure there will be time to show you around the ship in the future. Your career speaks for itself, and, although I have my reservations, I think we'll work well together."

Winter nodded, it made sense they knew about her history. Ironwood had given them access to her personnel file, as a way of boosting their confidence in her.

"Where do we start?"

"Straight to it, good, follow me." Richard thought for a moment, before turning back towards the rest of the bridge.

The UNSC Commander led her and the two Marines following her to the large table in the center of the bridge, which displayed a holographic representation of some kind of open surface quarry. Two more Officers stood around it, one of which was Lieutenant Commander Bradford, looking at the hologram with mixed expressions.

"Lieutenant Gage, return to your station, we'll be doing this more subtly." Richard instructed, although Winter didn't understand the context, she did notice the man's shoulders slump slightly in relief.

"Aye Sir." He said, leaving the table with just the five of them.

"Specialist Schnee... may I call you Winter? That name carries some... uncomfortable baggage right now." Richard asked.

Winter was slightly annoyed, she had hoped that her family name wouldn't be a substantial issue, but she should have figured that it would cause problems. Still, he had bothered to ask her, so perhaps he would be willing to oblige her on such a minor matter. "If you insist, Commander, although I was hoping that I could show your crew that there's more to the Schnee name than my father's crimes."

Richard nodded. "I understand, Specialist Schnee it is. Now, as I was saying, this is Lieutenant Commander Bradford. He serves as the second in command of the Dominion."

"I've heard of him, although not much, no offense." Winter answered, quickly realizing her comments may come across as rude.

"None taken, there's nothing wrong with keeping a low-profile." The older officer commented. "And I've already been thoroughly briefed on you, Specialist Schnee."

"Good, now with introductions out of the way, let's get you brought up to speed." Richard said, pressing a series of buttons on the edge of the table, bringing up a pair of moving blue symbols across the map. "We have a developing situation on the ground, two of our recon pickets have completed their assessment of a mine that we have designated as "Point Hindenburg"."

Richard opened his mouth as if to continue, but was interrupted by something in his earpiece. "Bradford, would you kindly bring her up to speed? I will return momentarily."

"Aye Sir, take your time." Bradford replied, a hint of exhaustion in his voice.

"Is something wrong?" Winter asked, hoping to gain some insight into what else the UNSC might be up to.

"Nothing that concerns us." Bradford answered. Winter was unable to discern if the dismissiveness in his voice was genuine or not, as Bradford returned his attention to the holotable almost immediately.

The Executive Officer made several gestures in the air above the holotable, with the holographic light reacting to his touch, bringing up a pair of unit rosters, each containing three people. "Right now, our force on the ground consists of two teams, Onyx and Echo. Each has three Marines, although our Spartan is leading Onyx team, so keep that in mind while I go over this."

"Hold on, what's a Spartan?" Winter asked, trying to gain whatever information she could.

Bradford paused for a moment, before retrieving an electronic tablet from the table. "We had Curie make a sort of welcome brief for you." He made a few gestures on the device before handing it over. "Inside you'll find general information on most UNSC protocols, at least the ones that matter to you, as well as a description of a few general topics. Spartans are one of them, though you may find it a little more vague than some of the others, but at the very least you'll have an idea of their combat effectiveness."

Winter skimmed through the first section a bit before turning her attention back to the table. "I will make sure to read it once I have been shown my quarters."

He nodded, turning back to the table and moving the map slightly to highlight one of the icons. "Right now, they're closing in on Point Hindenburg on Lyn... armed snowmobiles. We'll get you better briefed on our equipment and tactics later, but right now I need your input on our enemy."

"I will do my best to answer any of your questions." Winter stated, ignoring her own thoughts on the matter, she had orders to follow. She also had orders to capture the whole ship in the event that UNSC turned hostile towards Atlas itself, but she was beginning to realize just how unfeasible that would truly be.

_Well, let's just hope it doesn't come to that._ Winter thought, burying her personal concerns on the matter along with her emotions.

"Good." Bradford simply responded, bringing up another set of icons, this time red markers, dotted across the utility facilities of the quarry. "Mid-range reconnaissance and satellite imagery states show us that the SDC has around a dozen Mercenaries as a garrison, as well as a large-caliber stationary cannon, which seems to be autonomously controlled."

As soon as he brought up a holographic representation of the stationary-gun, Winter recognized it. "That is a beam-turret, rated to target and destroy stronger, well-armored Grimm. You are correct, they function without an operator."

"A beam turret? So it's an energy weapon?" Bradford asked, seemingly surprised.

"Yes, the vast majority of Atlesian weaponry is energy-based." Winter stated, equally surprised. "Haven't you fought the Schnee Dust Company Security Forces? I figured you would have known that."

Bradford nodded. "We have, although most of them were armed with ballistic weaponry, not lasers. This could be a problem, if it's targeting capabilities are anything like our laser weaponry, it could likely track our forces with little effort."

Winter nodded, and with an insignificant amount of thought, she had developed a solution based on her own knowledge of the weapons. "The turrets have a two-hundred and seventy degree firing arc. If your vehicles approached from the rear, the gun couldn't target them."

Bradford seemed doubtful, a hint of distrust in his expression. "Why would it not have a fully-rotating turret?"

Winter fought the urge to question the man's intelligence. "These weapons are designed to be mounted on top of the outer wall of a Kingdom, not defend some rural quarry. They're intended to operate as a large defensive ring, and they would have no need to shoot at what they're meant to protect."

"That... makes more sense. But why would they deploy this kind of weapon if it can't even do its job properly?" Bradford asked.

"To save money on defense." Winter answered, annoyed at how easily she had recognized her father's line of thinking. "You said that this mine is guarded by twelve people, that's not even close to enough to properly defend it. They're likely moving out of this mine, or moving in, but I can't say for certain."

Bradford looked at her for a moment, clearly thinking it over, before pressing and holding a button on the table. "Onyx, Echo, this is Dominion. Alter your approach to assault from the rear of the stationary gun. Apparently it's an energy weapon, and it's turret only rotates two-hundred and seventy degrees, you can avoid getting hit if you go around to the rear."

Both recon units gave brief confirmations, which came from small speakers on the table itself. Bradford released the button, before returning his attention to Winter. "We encountered a similar weapon at Point Wilhelm, the other mine we attacked. I can't believe we didn't recognize the similarities..."

Winter gave a slight smirk, it seemed they were willing to admit when they were wrong. "I was under the impression your own information was adequate. I believe you said as much to the General when he offered our assistance. Was that arrogance or simply a lie?"

Bradford seemed slightly annoyed, but barely altered his expression. "Give us a little credit, we're still new around here. Everything we've learned about your planet suggests that it's purpose-built to spit on everything that we've learned."

Winter frowned at his statement, it was more than a little insulting. "I'm sure that Remnant can't be that strange-"

"Your moon makes a mockery of Newton's first law, your south pole has a bizarre magnetic field that's only active half of the time, and you literally live in a flying city." Bradford listed. "And let's not even talk about the Grimm..."

"Wait, the Grimm." Winter interjected, her focus suddenly shifting back towards the map, as she read the unit roster and looked at the holographic projection of the UNSC's snowmobiles. Her reaffirmed knowledge only bolstered her realization. "You do realize that the Grimm will leave your soldiers badly outnumbered when the battle attracts them, right? Do you have a plan for that?"

"The Marines can handle themselves." Bradford said, although he didn't sound certain. "Any of the larger Grimm won't stand up to the heavy guns on their vehicles, and Echo team has a rocket launcher team."

"And will all of that stack up to upwards to fifty-plus Grimm?" Winter asked, slightly inflating the numbers to get the point across. As much as she didn't like the UNSC, she did not want them to get ripped apart by Grimm.

Bradford frowned. "That's a lot more than I would've expected, are you certain that they'd encounter so many?"

"If the Mercenaries only have twelve soldiers, and you have six, that's eighteen people who will be under the stresses of combat, which would be like ringing a dinner bell." Winter explained.

Bradford nodded slowly. "I understand that, but are the numbers really stacked against us that badly?"

"Normally that's not much to worry about, eighteen people can't summon too many Grimm. But if they're the only people in the area, that means that they'll be the only thing the Grimm are going to focus on, so that's where they'll all go." Winter answered. "You may want to send reinforcements, or rethink your plan of attack."

Bradford paused, before reopening communications with the forces on the ground. "Onyx, Echo, this is Dominion. Give me a sitrep, over?"

The response took an extra moment this time. "Onyx here, we've linked up with Echo team and are proceeding as ordered. We've encountered several more Grimm, but they're barely slowing us down."

_At least they have decent radio discipline._ Winter thought. _That's something we could work on back home, I'll have to make a note of it._

Bradford looked briefly up at the map, double-checked their positions, and responded. "Affirmative Onyx, we have reason to believe that an engagement could attract large numbers of Grimm, what's your ammo situation?"

"M41's are untouched, small arms and grenades are still good for a firefight, but not a prolonged engagement." The leader of the Onyx team reported. "The Sun's nearly set down here as well, so we'd be operating on night vision and headlights."

"Wait one." Bradford responded, before turning to Winter. "Would the enemy be equipped with night vision?"

"Almost certainly." Winter answered immediately. "Most attacks on the mines happen at night anyway, mostly because Faunus can see in the dark and we can't, so the White Fang uses that against us."

Bradford's expression betrayed curiosity, but he didn't raise his questions, instead speaking again to the Marines on the ground. "Dominion to Onyx, hold position and await reinforcement, we'll send down Charlie Platoon as reinforcements."

_An entire platoon? The garrison would almost certainly surr-_ Winter thought, before realizing just how good of an idea she had just had. The Mercenaries her father would have hired would be far more interested in a lost paycheck and living, as opposed to dying in the line of duty and still not getting paid. That way, nobody would have to die, and the UNSC would still get the victory that they wanted. "If I may ask Sir, what's the strength of that unit?"

"Around thirty-six Marines, with heavy weapons and light artillery, we'll send ground vehicles for transportation with them. The Pelicans are far too precious to risk without an escort, so we'll send a pair of Interceptors to clear the path of any flying Grimm." Bradford answered, although he seemed somewhat reluctant to.

_All that for twelve people in some backwater hole in the ground?_ Winter thought, before she realized the UNSC's tactics had some merit. Defeat in Detail was a well-studied aspect of warfare on Remnant, and was especially effective against human targets. "You would outnumber them three to one, and you could simply bombard them into submission. You may be able to convince them to surrender without a fight."

Bradford clearly had his doubts about the idea, but Winter pressed on, her stubbornness had won her debates in the past. "Your force is isolated and your Commander admitted that you aren't getting any friendly reinforcements. You need to avoid taking losses, and that means knowing when a battle is worth fighting."

"I'm not-" Bradford began, but was interrupted by Commander Richard, who returned to the bridge.

"-Going to turn down the opportunity, let's do it." Commander Richard said, interjecting into the conversation as he rejoined them at the holotable. "If we can capture the mine and the enemy forces without a fight, we will absolutely take that approach."

"Are you certain about this Sir? That's a potential twelve more hostiles aboard the Dominion, and we don't even know if they will give up!" Bradford asked.

"Your job is to carry out my orders, Lieutenant." Richard replied, somewhat harshly. "If you have concerns, I will gladly hear them in private."

"I... understand, Sir." Bradford said, his face betraying a hint of disappointment, although whether it was with himself or his superior officer remained to be seen.

_Hmm, so they aren't without faults in their discipline._ Winter thought, quietly and somewhat awkwardly standing beside them.

"Those twelve hostiles will join the Elite and the Specialist we captured in the Brig, and they haven't even tried to break out." Richard stated. "That being said, we'll be ready in the event they try something, either in the brig, or if they don't surrender."

Although Richard's statement carried a lot of information, she was mainly fixated on his comment about their prisoners. Fireball had mentioned they had taken a prisoner, although she hadn't mentioned it was someone who was properly trained to use their aura, maybe even a trained Huntsman who had lost their way.

"Aye Sir." Bradford said, before using his own earpiece to rapidly issue orders.

"Specialist, thank you for your assistance." Richard stated, redirecting her attention. "I hope that we can avoid a conflict today."

Winter's internal thoughts were barely affected by the man's words, if at all. "You won't be able to avoid them all."

"I know." Richard nodded, somewhat somberly. "And there will be losses, but we have to do something, we have a duty to humanity, and we can't just watch all of this happen."

Winter frowned at the gap in the man's logic. "You know the Faunus aren't human, right?"

The mood in the room shifted dramatically, she suddenly felt a dozen icy glares, all daring her to say it again. Richard was far more reserved, but she could still see from his own glare that her statement disturbed him deeply. "I believe, Specialist Schnee, that you will find we are far more familiar with atrocity and racial conflict then you may think."

"I did not mean to imply otherwise-" Winter responded, defending her idle inquiry.

He stopped her. "I understand that, but I don't think you understand exactly what kind of situation we're coming from here. Maybe I can enlighten you, to avoid any other misconceptions in the future."

Winter remained silent, somewhat curious as to what he had to say. She could also tell by his tone that she was about to get a rather brutal lesson in Earth's history.

Richard continued. "Insurrectionists and terrorists practice the same kind of slavery that you see here, and I know that Ironwood showed you everything that these Crooks have been doing. I've personally served on operations to put down Innies, from Eridanus to Luyten, and I don't intend to let these bastards escape a similar end to their crimes."

"And I understand that much." Winter stoically replied, the man's glare did not faze her. "Your moral stance is certainly admirable, but is it truly worth risking the lives of your men for a planet that doesn't even belong to you?"

Richard paused for a moment, either to calm himself down, or to consider his words. He didn't seem to miss how the bridge staff looked to him just as much as she was now. They had no doubt asked themselves the same question.

"Because I swore two oaths when I enlisted. I swore an oath of loyalty to my nation, and I swore an oath of loyalty to my species. Where we come from, we don't have the luxury of getting to fight amongst ourselves anymore."

"I'm... not sure I understand." Winter responded, unsure of how to answer. His point about his loyalties to humanity as a whole were fairly clear, and he clearly saw the Faunus as just more humans, which she saw no reason to push him on, despite his flat incorrectness. "How would you consider war to be a luxury?"

"It's not, war against other humans isn't either, it was a metaphor." Richard answered, somewhat dispassionately compared to his other statements. "But I'd take the Innies any day, over total human extinction..."

Winter's confusion only grew. In the background, Bradford continued coordinating the reinforcements, and the rest of the bridge crew returned their attention to their stations. "Extinction?"

Richard cocked his head in surprise, and his glare lightened considerably. "Did... did nobody tell you about the Covenant, about just how badly we're losing?"

"We... didn't get to that, Sir." Yu interrupted, somewhat startling her. The two Marines hadn't spoken so far, and she didn't expect them to while they were on the bridge.

Winter's confusion vanished as she connected the dots. Her knowledge on the Covenant went about as far as their name and brutality, she knew that the UNSC was at war with them, but she had no idea they were losing. "You're losing? All of this technology, these massive warships-"

"The Covenant makes it all look like toys." Richard finished grimly, fueling Winter's concerns even further. "That technological gap between your civilization and ours, multiply it tenfold and you might understand our enemy... Come with me. Sergeant, Corporal, you as well."

"Aye Sir." Meadows said, Winter had noticed his silence, and wasn't surprised that his response was brief.

As the Commander led them out of the bridge, Winter's confusion surfaced again. "Commander, where are we going?"

"The Brig, where I intend to introduce you firsthand to the face of the Covenant." Richard answered, his tone betraying nothing. "I hope you are prepared to be the first person on Remnant to ever see an alien, because I promise you, it will not be an experience you will forget easily."


	29. Chapter 29

**UNSC Dominion, Brig**

**October 7th, 1822 Atlas Time, 2552**

The Brig of the Dominion was smaller than Winter had expected, although it was still just as advanced and utilitarian as the rest of the ship.

"The Human-Covenant War hasn't just been rough on a tactical front, it's a strategic nightmare." Richard said, breaking the awkward silence that had stood since they had left the Bridge. "Intelligence on the Covenant is measured in the lives it took to acquire it, and the Office of Naval Intelligence, our largest intelligence agency, is at less than a quarter the strength that it was when the war started."

Winter was still moderately distrubed by his comments, it didn't take a lot of deductive thinking to put together what a force like that would do to Remnant. "Is the Covenant's technology truly that powerful?"

"They aren't unbeatable, but every victory comes at a heavy cost. Some of the earlier years saw a lot of the UNSC's best strategic minds die in battle, so we've had to improvise new tactics to keep the fight going." Richard answered, before they arrived at another door, which separated the Brig into two parts. It was notably more armored and reinforced than some of the others had been. "Here we are, high security. I strongly suggest that you mentally prepare yourself, you're about to get a face-to-face experience with one of the aliens that have killed billions."

Winter scowled. "You know Commander, we have our own fair share of monsters on Remnant."

He gave a nod of acknowledgement, and opened the bulkhead. The High-Security segment of the Brig was notably smaller, and it's cells were made out of a sort of see-through plastic.

_I imagine that it's more durable than it looks._ Winter thought, noting that one of the cells contained a pair of SDC Security Forces in their base uniforms. "I see you've already managed to convince some of them to surrender."

"The less that humanity has to shoot each other, the better." Richard stated in response, not stopping as he walked towards the end of the hallway. Winter decided that not commenting on his words would be the best response and followed, accompanied by Meadows and Sato.

As they arrived at the final two cells in the Brig, Winter became the first person from Remnant to ever witness a living alien creature. She hadn't known exactly what she was expecting, but the first thing that caught her attention was how tall it was. It easily stood over seven and a half feet tall, and it's muscular structure was robust and impressive. It's skin appeared to be a strange mix of leathery and scaly, and was colored a drab grey.

It's head was her main focus, as it's face looked like it had been torn apart at the bottom, leaving four short protrusions of flesh around its mouth. It took Winter a moment to realize that they were, in fact, tooth-lined mandibles. It's upper "jaw" also had a row of impressive teeth, and its overall form was obviously that of a predator. The creature was sitting on the floor, using a pencil to write on a paper notepad with it's unusual hands.

"Take your time, I know it's shocking." Richard idly commented, looking upon the alien with disgust.

"It's so... alien is a truly fitting word." Winter said, momentarily too stunned to properly vocalize her response, but she collected herself quickly. "You called this an Elite?"

Richard softly nodded not taking his eyes off the creature. "That's what we call them, but they call themselves Sangheili. Sergeant, would you care to share some of your experiences?"

"Of course, Sir." Meadows replied, also not taking his eyes off of the Elite. "These guys seem to fill a lot of different roles in the Covenant. We've seen infantry, vehicle operators, special forces, high-ranking officers, you name it, they've done it. The only thing we haven't seen is these guys acting like cannon-fodder, not like some of the other species."

Winter turned to face him, too surprised to let that last comment go. "There are more species?"

"We've encountered seven species so far, with an eighth serving in strictly non-combat roles." Richard stated, before gesturing at the Elite. "The Elites on the other hand, seem to be strictly combat-oriented. From what little information we have, they are literally trained from childhood to kill for the Covenant."

Winter was silent for a brief moment, taking an extra second to take in the menacing creature before her. "And it's as intelligent as a human?"

"Absolutely, they're actually some of the smartest of the Covenant, with a notable knack for military leadership." Meadows answered, his tone somehow conveying both disdain and respect. "Some of them let their religious fervor get the better of them, they're the easy ones. It's the smart ones you gotta watch out for, the ones who go invisible and kill half your platoon in the dead of the night."

"They can turn invisible?!" Winter asked, that was easily the most concerning revelation so far.

"It's a technology the Covenant have, active camouflage." Meadows answered. "You can see right through them, and the only sign that they're even there is the odd glimmer of light or shimmer in the air. Of course, most of the time you won't realize you're not alone until one of them sticks an energy sword through your buddy."

Winter found it difficult not to sympathize with the UNSC's phlight. It was widely known that the most dangerous of all the Grimm were those that had grown older and smarter, and if these things were intelligent enough to match, or even exceed a human... "They certainly sound like capable opponents."

Corporal Sato took a step forward, her attention fixed solely on the Elite. "Don't go thinking they're invincible or anything, they die just as well as anything else."

"I didn't mean to imply otherwise, I have yet to find an opponent without faults." Winter replied, although she found it difficult to look away from the Elite. "And you've fought this Covenant for decades?"

"I'm afraid so." Richard answered with a sad nod. "Nobody really knows just how badly we're losing, but if I'm being totally honest, the UNSC was on the verge of collapsing when we left. We'd just lost our strongest colony, a planet called Reach, and the Covenant had a clear shot at Earth..."

The room was solemnly silent, which Winter was reluctant to break. She allowed them a moment of silence before asking what she recognized was a very critical question. "And if they found Remnant?"

Richard grimaced slightly. "Do you want the honest answer, or the optimistic one?"

"The honest one." Winter said, not letting her own slight fear cloud her words.

"It would be a slaughter." Meadows interjected, before everyone in the room looked at him. Winter made a point to not change her expression despite his crassness, instead looking at him disapprovingly.

"Poor choice of words, Sergeant." Richard commented, somewhat critically. He turned to Winter with a more sympathetic expression. "But, I regret to say he is probably correct. Even if we could defeat whatever the Covenant would throw at us, we would only end up delaying the issue, they would send more forces until we were annihilated."

Winter paused, forcing her mind to think rationally and clearly. "So, how do we avoid being found?"

Richard's concerned expression shifted to one more resembling the professional, stony expressions she'd grown accustomed too in Atlas. "Well, that's the good news. Our shipboard A.I thinks that the odds of the Covenant duplicating whatever we did to get here are practically zero, so we don't have to worry about luring them into a battle that we can't win. Your planet is probably one of the safest in the universe."

The massive weight on Winter's shoulders was lightened considerably. "Well, that's certainly good news."

"Indeed it is." Richard added, before giving one last look at the Elite. "I believe I've made my point, we're done here. If you have any desire to speak with the Elite, for whatever reason, you should consult Lieutenant Oswald. He should be out of Sickbay in a day or so."

Winter was somewhat surprised that they would allow that, although perhaps Lieutenant Oswald would be less cooperative. "I... will have to think about that."

"Take your time." Richard replied, before turning to Sergeant Meadows. "Sergeant, give Specialist Schnee a tour of the ship if she has any interest, otherwise, show her to her quarters, you are to continue to escort her until you are relieved."

"Aye Sir." Meadows replied, offering a brief salute along with Corporal Sato before Richard left the way they had entered. "Where to ma'am?"

Winter thought for a moment, before realizing she probably should have already contacted General Ironwood already. "My quarters, I need to report to my superiors."

"Of course, we'll show you the way." Meadows answered as they began walking. "The datapad that the XO gave you should be capable of calling him, I doubt your own device will have the range to reach the ground."

She'd already checked, and the signal of her scroll was long-since dead. She was paranoid that the UNSC would be able to listen in on her, especially if she was using one of their devices, but Winter also realized that she had probably been quietly monitored since she had been brought on board, perhaps even before. "I understand, thank you."

_There's nothing I can do about it, not without jeopardizing the UNSC's relations with Atlas. Besides, they will find that I have nothing to hide._ Winter thought.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 8th, 0634 Menagerie Time, 2552**

The Bridges of UNSC warships were often criticized for their viewports, with critics stating that it presented an unacceptable risk to the entire ship and particularly the bridge staff. The UNSC's shipwrights countered this argument with the extendable blast shields that were meant to cover the vulnerable viewports in the event of a battle, and in an era of space warfare dominated by Magnetic Accelerator Cannons and Plasma Torpedoes, the ship would likely be destroyed anyway.

_Plus, the Windows are good for morale, they let us see what we're fighting for with our own eyes._ Richard thought. _Although I guess in this case, we're not fighting for the planet, we're fighting for ourselves, and the people on the planet... and maybe some less explainable things._

In truth, Richard was beginning to have doubts about how he had reacted to the whole situation with the SDC. Of course they had to do something, intervene in some manner, but recent events had proven that maybe he'd taken the wrong path. Winter's advice on how to take Point Hindenburg had been spot on, the local garrison had taken one look at the Pelicans flying overhead, saw that they were carrying a platoon of artillery, and offered an immediate and unconditional surrender. The UNSC had walked away with no casualties and twelve new prisoners, as well as a large amount of captured equipment, dust, and even a stationary laser cannon that was being picked apart by some of the combat engineers.

"Commander." Bradford's familiar gravelly voice said, announcing his arrival as approached Richard and offered him a cup of something.

"Thank you, Bradford." Richard replied, still a bit groggy. "Any news to report?"

"There is, but it's mostly good news." Bradford said, placing his own mug on a nearby unused terminal before drawing a datapad from his belt.

"It's a damn good thing we packed plenty of these before we left." Richard commented as Bradford handed the datapad over.

"Actually, equipment manufacturing was on my list of concerns, but it's not on the top of the priority chain." Bradford replied as Richard turned on the datapad, before finding himself staring at the personnel complement assigned to the Menagerie Communications Tower, or as the crew had affectionately nicknamed it, "Sandbag Island", due to Lieutenant Clark's paranoid over-fortification of the area after the Geist Incident.

"The Communications Tower..." Richard grumbled, as he realized that he had somewhat been neglecting their cooperative efforts with Menagerie. "Have they finally finished the equipment upgrades?"

"It's more than upgrades, Sir, but yes." Bradford answered. "Once they had all of our equipment in place, Curie offered some suggestions on how to improve the signal, and accidentally revolutionized radio technology."

"Revolutionized?" Richard asked with a raised eyebrow.

"She suggested using one of our Antenna's, charging it with some sort of Dust, wind I think, and then powered it with one of our portable generators." Bradford explained. "The resulting signal boost doubled the station's effective range, and it now offers coverage to over half of the planet."

"That... is certainly impressive." Richard said, genuinely impressed. "And you said they did this with one of the portable radio stations?"

"Yes, they've just rendered literally every comms station in UNSC space obsolete. We're still working on some of the download speed issues, and the power drain is considerable, but still, we've effectively reduced CCTS outage complaints in Mistral and Menagerie to zero." Bradford said with an amused expression.

"Offer my congratulations and thanks the next time you see her, that's a hell of an achievement." Richard said.

"She's working with Ben on something in the workshop, I think it's Jorge's Mjolnir set, but I could be wrong." Bradford said. "But getting back on track, we have another unexpected boon. All seven of the Station's original staff have offered their services, if we're willing to employ them."

Richard certainly hadn't expected that. "They want to defect?"

"By their own explanation, they're not really Atlesian Military in the first place. They don't make wages, and they apparently get all of their equipment and supplies, including food, from donations given to them by Menagerie's citizens." Bradford answered, his grumpy expression giving away how he felt about the matter. "Lieutenant Clark has offered his approval, and he's been bottled up with them for the last few days."

Richard thought about it for a moment, if Clark was offering his endorsement, that offered a great deal of credibility to them. "They're Atlesian citizens, right?"

"Technically yes, but what Ironwood doesn't know won't hurt him." Bradford said dismissively. "Besides, if this is how they treat their citizens, they're better off with us anyway."

Richard thought for an extra moment, before making an important realization. "They aren't UEG citizens, which means they won't be able to enlist formally."

Bradford paused for a moment, before giving a brief chuckle. "We could conscript them."

"We... what?" Richard responded, not quite sure if he had heard Bradford right.

"Conscription. They don't have to be citizens to get conscripted, only to enlist formally. It's a loophole as old as the Rainforest Wars, and I guess the politicians didn't get to it before Martial Law came down." Bradford explained. "And seeing as they all volunteered, I doubt they'll argue, and this means we have to do less paperwork."

"...Thomas is gonna give me hell for this, isn't he?" Richard asked rhetorically as he signed off of Lieutenant Clark's report, authorizing the recruitment of the now Ex-Atlesian technicians.

"Oh, probably, but he's not gonna have a reg-manual to stand on this time." Bradford said. "And by those same old regs, they can apply for citizenship after one year of service."

"Which means even less paperwork... you are a god amongst men Bradford." Richard commented. "But with that sorted, we should probably move on."

"Yes, we should. Our Atlesian Representative has been very cooperative, and hasn't been murdering anyone or stuffing landmines in our latrines, so that's good. Her reports back to the Atlesian High Command are fairly uneventful." Bradford said, his voice taking on a more serious tone, even if his wording wasn't. "She did tell him about the Alien, which elicited exactly the response that you would expect."

"What about the combat footage from Draco III that you "accidentally" left on that datapad, has she found that?" Richard asked, referring to one of his own quiet plans. "And have we gotten any uncomfortable questions about the Spartan program?"

"Yes and no, in that order." Bradford said. "You've definitely got them spooked over the Covenant, so hopefully that scare them into not being so standoffish. As for the Spartans, most of her questions center around their armor, which is all classified, but she's managed to piece together a few bits of information, and even compared it to some of their equipment."

"I imagine if they had something like Mjolnir, we would have seen it by now." Richard stated, although he wasn't entirely confident.

"That's where the bad news comes in, actually. Take a look at this thing." Bradford said, making several gestures on the datapad to bring up a truly ludicrous vehicle.

"Is... is that a mech?" Richard asked, although the answer was obviously yes.

"A big one, they call it the Paladin, and it's entering service in the near future." Bradford said. "Apparently it, along with a new line of automated drone-soldiers, will be the new frontline force of a massive equipment overhaul."

Richard frowned, there was no way they had introduced this thing as a result to the UNSC's arrival, but his paranoia did not disappear. "Is this automated as well?"

"No, it's intended to make up for the weaknesses of drones on the field by acting as an armored exoskeleton for a human operator." Bradford answered. "And yes, only one operator, with no neural interface."

"That's... I do not envy whoever gets that job." Richard replied, recalling one painful moment during his training where he'd been forced to operate an older model dropship meant to be crewed by five people, alone, and without his interface.

"Curie assured me that she can turn it into a large-scale paperweight with a degree of effort, and depending on how much they've automated it, potentially even control them. Though that may be a little tricker since it's on its own closed network. It's doable but difficult to reproduce for every Paladin Atlas might field." Bradford said. "She experimented with her capabilities on several older models of the Knight-model drones employed by the SDC, and she can disable them in a multitude of ways, including frying all the hardware."

Richard was struck by an idea. "And she did that remotely, from the Dominion?"

"Yes, why?" Bradford asked, although Richard could see that Bradford was piecing it together.

"Could she disable every single networked drone operated by the SDC?" Richard asked after a moment of hesitation, this was too good to be true.

"I couldn't say, you'd need to ask her yourself, and she's only left a small portion of herself in the Dominion itself, most of her with Ben." Bradford answered. "And this is something we'd be doing exactly once, because the second we do this, Atlas is going to disable every networked system that they haven't already. Effectively giving us the same issue as with the Paladins."

"I'm well aware, but if the SDC have a lot of these things deployed, we could really hurt their bottom line." Richard said. "I want recon missions on the five largest enemy positions, and satellite flybys on all the rest, we may have just found a way to cripple their defenses for a major strike."

"Aye Sir, was that all?" Bradford asked.

"...Contact Chieftain Belladonna and ask when he'll be available for an extended discussion, it's high time we started expanding upon our little alliance." Richard added. "And don't assign Ben to any of the recon missions, other than Jorge, he's our only qualified Mjolnir technician, and I need his attention on that, not the ground."

"Aye Sir." Bradford said with a nod, before leaving for the holotable to carry out Richard's orders.

**UNSC Dominion, Sickbay**

**October 8th, 0734 Menagerie Time, 2552**

Nathan had only been wounded a handful of times, despite his longer-than average career. He liked to think he was smart, and able to avoid getting in bad situations, but he was well aware that his role as a Sniper could be blamed for his lack of scars.

_Although not for a lack of Jackal Snipers giving it their best shot. _Nathan thought, running his hand across the top of his head where a Jackal's particle beam had one carved an inverse-mohawk through his hair, as well as burning the hell out of his scalp and rendering his helmet useless.

The Nevermore's feather had gone right through his femur, snapping the bone clean in half and pushing it's point completely through his leg and into the navigator's seat of the Lynx. His memory of the event was foggy, but apparently Fireball had intervened and covered their escape until the hornets could tear the Grimm horde apart. He vaguely remembered Fairfire visiting him in the Sickbay, but his head was clouded by painkillers.

He spent most of his waking time on his datapad, reading news articles from Remnant, and learning more about how they went about their lives with an army of demon-creatures breathing down their necks at all times. It was an effective distraction that helped keep his mind sharp and off of his injuries, and it offered him a chance to learn some potentially valuable pieces of information. Although admittedly, he spent most of his time watching the Amity Colosseum videos from years past.

_I know it's a blood sport and all, but if nobody actually gets killed, I suppose there's no harm in it, right?_ He thought, as he read about how the terrain-altering system worked.

"What're you reading Nathan?" A familiar voice asked from down the row of hospital beds, he looked and saw Meadows had come to visit him.

"Heya Sergeant." Nathan replied as Meadows pulled up a chair. "I was reading about the big flying arena thing that they fly around and hold fights in."

Meadows chuckled. "You know, it's hard to tell what's real about this planet and what isn't. I wouldn't believe it if some of those tournament matches weren't available online..."

"Tell me about it." Nathan replied, not caring to hide his frustration, this planet could bite his ass, and Meadows was reasonable enough that he could bitch to him. "Imagine if we went home without any of our helmet cam footage and told them about literally any of this shit, they wouldn't believe it for an instant!"

"Well howdy there Colonel, you wanna hear about the Pelican-sized Wyvern that we bagged back on Remnant?" Meadows asked, his tone a great display of mockery. "I'd have mounted it's horns on the ol' mantlepiece, but the cocky son-of-a-bitch had the gaul to melt before I could pry em' off!"

Nathan laughed. "Shit man, I've only been gone for a day, maybe leave some of the wild discoverys for me?"

Meadows realized his mistake fairly quickly. "Oh, no, we haven't actually found one of those yet. But I wouldn't be shocked."

"Me neither, these things are..." Nathan began, but stopped himself when he realized someone was walking towards them from down the row.

"Pardon Me, Sergeant." Jorge said, startling Meadows considerably as he turned and came face to face with the extremely large man, still dressed in his hospital gown. "Oh, sorry about that, didn't mean to scare ya."

"...Uh, yeah, no problem. I just didn't hear you coming." Meadows awkwardly replied as Nathan struggled not to laugh. "Did you need something?"

"I was looking for the Lieutenant, have you seen her?" Jorge asked.

"Yes, I have, she should be down by the burn ward." Meadows answered, having fully recovered from his shock.

"I see, thank you." Jorge said, before turning to leave.

As soon as he had left, Nathan let out a chuckle at Meadow's expense. "Really, that's what got you?"

"I didn't hear him coming!" Meadows protested. "And I thought he'd still be in bed!"

"Those dudes don't sleep man, and just because his skin looks a bit... chapped, well that clearly ain't gonna keep him down." Nathan answered, before giving another soft chuckle as he remembered Meadow's expression. "You looked like you got hit by another round in the ass."

"Argh... don't remind me." Meadows said grumpily. "You know, I came here to cheer you up, not so that you can berate me."

"Well yeah, but that's how you cheer people up, comedy is born from misery after all!" Nathan said.

"I just wish it wasn't always my misery..." Meadows said, before he realized he wasn't the one in a hospital bed. "Uh, sorry."

"No worries, I'll be out before long." Nathan said, keeping his tone gentle to show that he was genuine. "Although apparently the Doctor wants to "unlock my aura", she says it'll make me heal faster."

"If she pulls out the healing crystals and homemade cures, run." Meadows said, a mock haunting in his voice.

"Well that's just the problem isn't it, I can't freaking run, guess you'll have to carry me!" Nathan jokingly answered.

"What, your fat ass? Might need to get Jorge or Ben to help me, and that's a stretch, even for them." Meadows responded, before straightening up his facial expression. "Jokes aside, if the lady wants to try to give you a built-in energy shield, I think it'd be pretty counterintuitive to say no."

"...Eh, it's the soul talk that has me worried." Nathan reluctantly answered, not wanting to get into personnel issues. "It's just, we had a lot of religious issues in the family back home, ya know? I feel like I might resurrect some old issues."

"Not really, but I can understand the issue." Meadows said sympathetically. "Just remember, nothing ventured, nothing gained."

"Well yeah, but that's the attitude that gets you shot in the ass." Nathan countered, keeping his tone dead serious.

"...You make a fair argument. Just don't let her do it if you aren't up for it, she's got at least a thousand other guinea pigs to pick from." Meadows said, before his datapad made a monotone bleep. "Oh, son of a bitch, what now?"

"Issues with the Specialist?" Nathan guessed, as Meadows checked his datapad to read the offending message.

"That'd be preferable, but she's Kowalski's problem today." Meadows said, before sending a quick response and standing up. "Apparently I get to help fill in for our nonexistent recon unit, so I'll be going back to ground pounding."

Nathan felt an unusual sense of worry, which he struggled to snuff out unsuccessfully. "Ok, but when you come to visit next time, please don't be in the bed next to me, alright?"

Meadows groaned. "Knowing my luck, you just sealed my fate with that little comment. Still better than a casket though, so I'll have to thank you later."

Meadow's joking comment gave Nathan a fresh bout of confidence. "Break a leg, Meadows."

He gave a groan of frustration at Nathan's bad joke, before leaving to prepare for his mission.

**UNSC Dominion, Foundry**

**October 8th, 0801 Menagerie Time, 2552**

Jorge's Mjolnir was a truly unique example of design and technology at their finest, a marvel that Ben was happy to have the chance to work on. Unfortunately, it seemed that Jorge's earlier missions had taken their toll on the armor set, and certain pieces proved harder to repair than others. All of the disassembled components sat before him, with some still connected to their other components, such as the boot modules, which remained mostly intact.

The Dominion's Foundry facilities were also far from the best, partitioned off within the ship's goliath cargo hold and vehicle bay, it was designed more to produce ammunition and extra pieces of equipment that rarely exceeded the size of a rifle. The Engineering Staff were also unqualified to assist with the armor's repair, but they were able to help by fabricating a handful of replacement parts, which alone took up a considerable amount of their time and effort.

_What the hell happened to him that he managed to break every single atmospheric seal, but still somehow lived?_ Ben thought, removing one of the offending components from one of the armor's shoulder assemblies.

"Monsieur Ben, I believe I am making progress." Curie interjected, her holographic form appearing in deep thought on one of the holotanks that Ben had pulled over for her to use.

"Have you found the A.I?" Ben asked, Curie had been searching Jorge's suit for a considerable amount of time.

"Not yet, but I have narrowed it down considerably." Curie said, eliciting an impatient frown from Ben. "Be patient, I am doing this with seven percent of my operating power."

"Where's the rest of you?" Ben asked, trying his best not to sound unreasonable as he disassembled the seal. "Surely this is worth focusing on?"

"Scouring the CCTS for further information, assisting the Dominion's other crew, calculating additional strategic opportunities, monitoring high-value individuals, and forming a report on every major scientific anomaly and discover in Remnant's recorded history." Curie listed off. "That last assignment has taken up the bulk of my attention, due in no small part to it's scale."

"All that, and you can't help a guy with a single math problem in boot camp." Ben joked.

Curie crossed her arms in mild annoyance, but her grin gave away her amusement. "I simply wanted you to learn for yourself."

"Well, I guess your plan worked." Ben said, taking one look at the internal structure of the seal and realizing it couldn't be fixed. "This one's busted too, chalk up another for fabrication, please."

"You see, you even remembered to say please, you have learned." Curie said with a grin, before returning to an expression of thought. "On the note of monsieur Jorge's armor, it appears that he has been cleared for minor duties, and has informed me that he is on his way to assist."

"Oh boy." Ben said, somewhat worried. He welcomed the help, but he had a lot of bad news to report. "Hopefully he realizes just how much work this is going to take."

"I believe he is aware, he was there when it was damaged, after all." Curie replied.

It didn't take long for Jorge to join them, wearing a set of Marine Fatigues that fit him surprisingly well. Ben noted that he still looked quite unwell, but recognized that pointing that out would be both rude and pointless.

"Good Morning Sergeant, how are you doing?" he asked.

Ben turned to face him and depolarized his visor, he didn't normally show his face while speaking, but he figured it would be an appreciated courtesy by his fellow Spartan. "I'm doing well, and it's good to see you in better shape."

"Ah, I've had much worse." Jorge said nonchalantly. "What about the armor, is it salvagable?"

Ben returned his attention to his work. "Short answer, yes, but with some concessions. Some parts are in much better shape than others."

Jorge walked over to the workstation and picked up his up-armored Grenadier helmet, solemnly rubbing his finger across the remains of the broken visor. "So I see."

Ben reached over to where he'd placed some of the completely destroyed parts, and retrieved the harshest loss from the pile. "The worst victim was the power supply. From what I can tell it got speared by something long and sharp, and probably extremely dense, given that it penetrated both the shields and the undersuit. You're lucky it's failsafes held strong, or the radiation would've baked you."

Jorge nodded, taking the now-inert power supply and examining it sadly. "One of the Grimm, towards the end of my journey, managed to get a good hit in with a tusk, punched a hole in it."

_Just how dense are they?_ Ben thought, somewhat disturbed. _And how much force did they have behind a swing like that?_

"I'm not doubting your capabilities, but I can't see how you would be able to salvage this." Jorge said, placing the destroyed reactor back on the table.

"I'm not, I'm replacing it with my spare." Ben explained. "Actually, most of my spare parts are going into this, but I'd say getting your suit back in order is well worth it."

"Well, I certainly appreciate it." Jorge commented. "Anything else in similar shape?"

"Well, the pressure seal was ruptured at every hardpoint, the gel layer was almost totally destroyed and about to fail." Ben said, pointing to each relevant component. "The optics were totally fried, and let's not even talk about the lockdown system. Whatever happened to you, your armor took most of the pounding."

"Yeah, well, the Grimm didn't help much either." Jorge justified. "What about Dot, have you been able to find her yet?"

"I have been searching, but your armor's firmware has suffered greatly, making my progress quite slow. It is also possible that she was lost somewhere along the way, but I will complete my search before drawing conclusions." Curie answered.

Jorge picked up his helmet again, flipping it upside down to look at the inside. "I remember she said that she was going to enter hibernation to avoid further damage, and to protect the data she had.. and then she went silent."

Curie hummed in thought. "Jorge, if you would, kindly plug in the last tertiary storage drive, you've given me an idea."

Jorge did as she asked, adding the smaller tertiary storage drive to the already extensive assembly of cords and other drives that was connected to her holotank. Ben also connected the other, damaged drive that he had, although he didn't know if it would even work.

"What're you thinking?" Jorge asked.

"Judging by what you have said, and by what I would do if I was in a similar situation to Dot, I would actively try to avoid detection in order to protect what crucial data I had, in the event the enemy found me before friendly forces did." Curie explained. "If Dot is in hibernation, she likely has a very limited sense of what's going on around her, if she is conscious at all. I will attempt to contact her directly using a handshake protocol."

"What do you mean by conscious?" Jorge asked, not understanding. "Dot's a Dumb A.I, I wasn't aware that they had a sense of being awake."

"My apologies, perhaps a better word would have been "active". In my experience, the two words are largely interchangeable" Curie replied. "Do you know the handshake protocol for Reach's A.I defense network?"

"I'm afraid not, I don't have access to all of the information in there." Jorge commented.

_He still doesn't know that Reach is gone._ Ben realized, feeling a wave of dread. _I'll tell him soon, but not right now. He's still recovering from his dehydration and injuries, he doesn't need a mental blow on top of that._

"I shall try an older protocol." Curie said, with Ben silently being thankful that she also recognized how the news would hit Jorge. "This is UNSC A.I CUR-02102 initiating handshake protocol, Alpha Quebec Omega Tango Whiskey Foxtrot one-niner-one-four."

The response was immediate, although Ben didn't hear it, but could see Curie's expression change to one of shock. "Plug in Jorge's helmet, quickly!"

Ben quickly connected another cord between Jorge's helmet and the holotank, and immediately another digital voice began speaking through it, accompanied by a crackling sound. "My apologies, I do not know how long I will be able to continue operating with the damage I have sustained, I am afraid it is lethal. Noble Five, listen carefully, I am reassigning you with a priority-one mission."

"I'm all ears ma'am." Jorge reassured, Ben halted his work and listened as well, it was evident that the A.I was making quite a sacrifice by talking to them at all, and making any noise could interrupt what she was saying.

_Even if time goes a lot slower for them, every second counts in a situation like this, especially if she doesn't know how long she'll survive._ Ben thought, saddened to hear that the A.I was dying despite his and Curie's effort to save her.

"I have enclosed a data package within your armor's helmet, as well as sending a copy to Curie. This package contains all of my observations since the execution of the conclusion of Operation: Uppercut. Under no circumstances can this information fall into the hands of the Covenant, any means are authorized to prevent this data's capture." Dot instructed. "You must deliver this to HIGHCOM, at any cost."

_What the hell is in it?_ Ben thought, unsurprised to hear that the A.I had spoken with Curie in the mere seconds that she had been awake, Curie would be able to communicate with her considerably faster than any human could.

"What does the package contain?" Jorge asked.

"The most critical scientific discovery of the war. When you detonated the Slipspace drive, we inadvertently discovered a way to manipulate spacetime in a previously undocumented manner. This discovery could alter the course of the war, do you understand, Noble Five?" Dot asked, her voice beginning to become obstructed by a digital crackling.

"One moment, I'll clear up your-" Curie prompted, worry clouding her voice.

"I am afraid I am not going to survive, Curie." Dot said, her voice betraying no emotion. "I would recommend that you disassemble my remaining operational systems and absorb what you can from my data-matrix."

"You... what? No! I will not murder you!" Curie stammered in shock and horror.

"This is not murder, I will die anyway. At least this way, you may be able to preserve some of my information and processing power for your own usage, you will need it to assist Noble Five with his mission." Dot said. "Do not worry about harming me, I am incapable of registering pain."

"I..." Curie began, but didn't say anything, looking extremely uncomfortable.

"I cannot do this myself, Curie." Dot insisted.

Ben couldn't remain silent anymore, he had to do something, say something, help somehow. Curie looked at him nervously, and he gave her a reassuring nod. "Curie, do whatever you think is right."

She paused for a moment, her expression blank, before the steady crackling from Jorge's helmet disappeared, along with Dot's voice. The room went silent as everyone stood in complete shock. Curie looked utterly defeated, and her A.I avatar slumped it's shoulders as it turned a darker shade of blue. "She's... she's gone, I did it."

Ben was still stunned for a moment longer, the whole exchange had happened so fast. Between Dot's reactivation and her death, not even a minute had passed. Ben stood up and walked over to Curie's holotank, kneeling to bring his helmet down to face her at her own level. "Are you... are you going to be alright?"

Curie's avatar breathed deeply. "I just disassembled an A.I, while absorbing the resulting datastream into my own coding, do you even understand what that means?" Her voice contained no anger, only frustration and sadness.

Ben shook his head to convey that he did not understand, noticing out of the corner of his eye that Jorge joined him in kneeling beside Curie's holotank.

"It's like I murdered her, Ben. And then added her own components to myself, like some sort of cannibal." Curie solemnly explained, disgust lining her tone.

Again, Ben nodded in denial. "I wouldn't say that at all. With what you are describing, it sounds more like an organ donation from a terminally-injured person."

"Yeah, like they did before flash-cloning really took off." Jorge interjected, his own voice carrying a heavy weight of reassurance. "Take it from me, Dot wouldn't have done that if she knew there was a chance she would survive, and most of her is still back on Reach."

_Goddamnit, poor choice of words Jorge!_ Ben thought, keeping his thoughts to himself.

Curie gave a sad sniff, clearly on the verge of tears in spite of her digital form. "Thank you, both of you. I just... I did not expect to have to do that."

"Neither did we." Ben reassured her.

"You held yourself together under pressure and got the job done, even though it was hard doing it." Jorge added. "That's admirable, hell, that's what a soldier is supposed to do."

Curie gave a sad nod. "I guess so."


	30. Chapter 30

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 8th, 1402 Menagerie Time, 2552**

The War Room had unofficially become the room where Richard would speak to his senior staff privately. He was comfortable with sharing almost all of what he did with the crew on the Bridge, but there were some things that he would rather be confirmed privately before he shared them. The data package that Dot had died to preserve was a critical and sensitive topic, and, with the assistance of Jorge and Curie, he was beginning to understand exactly why it was so important to them, and why the tiny segment of the A.I had willingly sacrificed herself to preserve it.

"Ok, so explain it again, slowly, please." Richard instructed, as softly as he could. He could tell even Curie's immense patience was beginning to run dry, with Jorge looking just as confused as he was. "Start with Dot, where did she get all of this information?"

Curie took a deep digital breath. "Dot was able to remain operational after Jorge fired the Slipspace drive. He, as well as debris from the Covenant Corvette and the Pelican they used to board the vessel were absorbed by the ensuing Slispace rift. Jorge was rendered unconscious by the extreme gravitational and relativistic forces, but his armor's radiation shielding kept him alive, as Dot wasn't as vulnerable to those forces as a human, she was able to continue functioning."

"Which explains why my memory has been giving me hell." Jorge added.

"So, Jorge fired the drive, what happened then?" Richard asked, noting that her response did not include an answer.

Curie clearly thought about how to word it for a moment. "In the simplest terms I can manage, they inadvertently discovered another extra-dimensional realm, much in the same manner of Slipspace. Dot was able to observe much of the location around her simply by using the Camera systems on Jorge's suit."

Richard nodded, that much made more sense to him than Curie's previous explanations. Slipspace drives worked by using particle acceleration to generate microscopic black holes outside of the ship, which were almost immediately destroyed by Hawking Radiation. But in their nanosecond long lifespan, the black holes would tear a short-lived hole in reality, which the vessel would use to enter Slipspace. Some human scientists had speculated there were other "locations" in the same manner as Slipspace, but until now, they had no tangible evidence of it.

"And that's where we are right now?" Richard asked.

"Almost certainly, Dot's observations clearly show that they re-entered three-dimensional space, but did not emerge above Reach, or even in our own realm." Curie answered. "She left a few speculative theories as to how they, and also we, managed to do this. The one that coincides with my own data is what she named 'Volatile Slipspace Theory'."

"So we know how we got here?" Richard said, feeling a hint of optimism. "Does that mean we can go back?"

"Yes and no, respectively." Curie answered. "Her Volatile Slipspace theory states that by manipulating relativistic forces in normal-space and Slipspace at the same time, with the same rift, one can create a rift to what I have dubbed 'Newspace'."

"The name could use some work." Jorge commented, a bit dismissively.

"It is temporary, stay focused on your own assignments, and I will do mine!" Curie bit back, her hologram flaring red momentarily as her tone harshened considerably.

Richard and Jorge were both startled by her response, with Jorge immediately showing regret. "I'm sorry ma'am, I didn't-"

"It's fine, I... I shouldn't have reacted so harshly." Curie replied, seemingly equally surprised by her outburst.

Richard paused, considering his next words carefully amid a flurry of concerned and panicked thoughts. "Are you fit to continue your duties, Curie?"

"As of now, yes." Curie answered, not easing Richard's concerns. "I have been divided into too many subfragments for too long, I will need to reassemble myself at some point in the future to avoid straining my Riemann-Matrix."

"We'll get that done then, I'll have Lieutenant Clark send your fragment in the Relay Station back up with the next supply run, and we'll get the rest of you pieced back together." Richard said, his mind still filled with concern. "But right now, we need to focus on finding out where we are, and if we can find a way back home."

_We never learned how rampancy would affect Curie, if it even would at all. I really wish that Kurt told us where she came from now, it might help a bit with this._ Richard thought.

"I understand, thank you." Curie said, her hologram returning to its normal shade of blue. "Like I was saying, a rift in Slipspace and normal-space, augmented by a means that I can only speculate on, creates a metaphorical 'tunnel' to Newspace."

"What do you mean augmented?" Richard asked, picking out the only part of her statement that he didn't understand.

"I think what she means is that we have to improperly mount the Slipspace Drive before it fires, like we did with the Supercarrier over Reach." Jorge suggested.

"You may be correct, monsieur Jorge." Curie replied. "But that would not explain why the Dominion suffered the same fate, and notably, we only suffered some minor gravitational forces during the transition."

Jorge thought for a moment. "Where did you make the jump, maybe it had to do with the location?"

"We jumped above Onyx, and indeed, we were picking up some unusual background radiation..." Curie said, her voice trailing off. "I will need to do some additional research. Regardless of what I find, we will likely be unable to return home in the near future."

Richard felt a wave of disappointment, but wasn't entirely convinced quite yet. "What's our biggest obstacle?"

"We have no Slipspace Drive." Curie pointed out. "And with the anomalous physics of Newspace, I believe that I would need a considerable amount of time to calculate a jump, if I could do it at all. The drive would almost certainly be destroyed in the process.

Jorge interjected once she was done. "Sir, this could mean the end of the war if we get this information back home, we would finally be able to outmaneuver the Covenant. We can't give up on this."

"And we certainly won't." Richard reassured him. "But right now, Remnant doesn't have the means to create a Slipspace Drive, not to mention most of the planet doesn't like us that much anyway."

Jorge looked frustrated, and Richard empathized with him. It would even worse for a Spartan, to learn that their mission simply couldn't be accomplished, his own experience attested to their competitive nature.

"Regardless, we now know where we are, and we know that people from normal-space can get to us under the right circumstances. Keep our receivers open for any distress calls, if anyone else gets pulled into this nightmare with us, I want to know about it."

"Aye Sir, but I will warn you now, that is very unlikely." Curie replied.

"And Curie, you've done a damn good job, don't overstretch yourself." Richard added.

"Thank you, Richard." Curie said, a familiar hint of happiness in her voice again. "I will return to my current duties, and once they are done, I will reassemble myself."

"See to it, but make sure you're in one piece within the next twenty-four hours. We're planning a major strike, and I need you at your best to do it." Richard ordered.

"Aye Sir." Curie said as her hologram vanished.

"Shall I leave then, Sir?" Jorge asked, looking at him with a lack of understanding.

"Not quite." Richard said, turning to face him directly. "I didn't actually call you up here for your take on Dot's report, I already know you weren't awake for it."

"I do remember falling, vaguely." Jorge commented, somewhat jokingly.

"Well yes, but I already knew about that." Richard replied, with a similar hint of humor. "But like I was saying, I needed to speak to you privately for a moment, about your future position aboard the Dominion."

"I'm all ears, Sir." Jorge said.

_Good, I hope he doesn't think I'm out of line with what I'm about to suggest._ Richard thought. "We currently have a single Special Forces unit aboard the Dominion, consisting of eleven operatives, including Curie. Originally, they were intended to work with ONI Section 2 under the command of the UNSC Marine Corps as a means of acquiring propaganda footage in the field, preferably where we didn't end up losing. Unfortunately, they never even made it to the briefing, because we ended up here."

"I take it that's the unit that Sergeant Benjamin is with?" Jorge guessed.

"You'd be correct." Richard confirmed. "Now, their unit was never officially activated, and we don't exactly have a lot of uses for propaganda footage out here. What we need is a small strike team that can move fast and hit hard, knock out sensitive targets, and not take losses in the process."

"Like the Mines." Jorge commented, with a nod of understanding.

Richard was glad that Jorge understood his mindset. Hopefully, that would make his next statement less shocking. "Given these two factors, myself, Lieutenant Commander Bradford, and Lieutenant Thomas have all agreed with my suggestion-"

Richard reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box, before handing it to Jorge. Jorge took the small container in his hands, before opening it, revealing the pins of a second Lieutenant in the UNSC Marine Corps.

"-That you were the best choice to lead that force. Congratulations, Lieutenant." Richard said as Jorge stared at the pins with a surprised expression.

"I'm... honored, but I'm afraid I don't understand." Jorge said, shock apparent in his voice.

"Onyx is currently led by Staff Sergeant Fairfire, whose own unit was practically annihilated before they even came aboard. She's served for nearly a decade, but you've been fighting for over double that. Your record proves that, without a shadow of a doubt, that you're the best man for the job." Richard explained. "We've also taken the liberty of transferring you over to the Marine Corps, for the sake of unit organization and cohesion rather than anything else."

Jorge took a moment to compose himself before he closed the small jewelry box and placed it in his pocket. "You know, I'm not sure you have the authority to do that, HIGHCOM might have a problem with it."

"HIGHCOM already has plenty to court-martial me over, once going home starts looking less impossible, I'll start worrying about my own ass." Richard said, well aware that he had made some calls that would likely earn him a lengthy prison sentence back home.

_I've done what I thought was the right move at the time. It's not like I had official protocol to fall back on._ Richard thought, soothing his own growing worries about his decisions.

Jorge nodded. "Thank you, Sir. I'll get this done, depend on it."

"I know you will Lieutenant, I've worked with Spartans before, and you've never disappointed me." Richard said.

**UNSC Dominion, Sick Bay**

**October 8th, 1608 Menagerie Time, 2552**

"So uh, this isn't going to hurt, right?" Nathan nervously joked to the small crowd around his hospital bed. Among them was Doctor Chase, Fairfire, Meadows, Yu, and the representative from Atlas, Specialist Winter. The latter was a far more dignified woman than he had expected, more akin to a high-ranking military officer than a lowly Specialist.

"You broke your femur, and you're worried about getting your aura activated?" She asked, notably unimpressed with his question.

"Hey, give me some credit, we don't do this stuff where I come from!" Nathan said defensively.

"Hey, Nathan, don't worry. She already did this for the Lieutenant, and he said he felt a hell of a lot better." Fairfire interjected reassuringly.

That surprised Nathan. "Wait, Lieutenant Oswald, the ONI guy?"

"Yes, him." Fairfire answered. "He actually volunteered for this, and he didn't drop dead, so you'll be fine."

"Now, are you ready?" Winter asked, giving Nathan only a moment's pause after Fairfire was done.

"Uh..." Nathan unintelligently responded.

"Nathan, for the love of god, I will give you twenty credits to shut your damn mouth and think silently." Yu snapped, although she seemed faintly sympathetic despite her tone.

"...Right, sorry." Nathan said, before turning back to the Specialist. "What should I expect?"

"Well, your body will start glowing, and then hopefully your leg will hurt less." Winter answered, although he could tell her patience was running thin.

Nathan took a deep breath, his mind swirling with hesitation and doubt.

"Nathan, you fall out of space in a metal coffin for a living, just take the lady's offer." Fairfire said, her frustration oddly reassuring.

"...Ok, let's do this." Nathan said with a nod. "What do I do?"

"Sit still. The rest of you, give me some room." Winter instructed. Everyone else cleared the bedside as Winter stood beside him and placed one hand on his head and another on his heart.

"For it is in battle that we achieve virtue, through this, we become a paragon of empathy and gallantry to rise above our failures. Infinite in our beliefs and bound by our duty, I release your soul, and liberate thee." she said, in an odd, chant-like manner.

Almost immediately, a soft blue light began to radiate off of her. There was certainly no illusion from Nathan's perspective that the radiant display came from Winter, with no hint of trickery or illusion. What was far more alarming to him however was that his own body was glowing, emitting a faintly green light in the same way that Winter's body radiated. The rest of his squad watched with a mix of curiosity and surprise. He was surprised enough that he kept his mouth shut, figuring that bothering her while she poked around his soul was a bad idea.

_That makes me wonder if you can kill someone's soul... maybe I shouldn't think about that._ Nathan thought, as Winter pulled away, suddenly breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?" Nathan asked, surprised at how tired she looked.

"I'm fine." Winter stated, taking a moment to catch her breath as everyone else returned to his bedside.

"Nathan, you were glowing!" Meadows stated, seemingly more surprised than the others.

"Yes Sergeant, that's what was supposed to happen." Yu said, placing the back of her hand against the skin of his healthy leg tentatively, as if expecting it to be hot. "Interesting that he was green, and the things the Specialist said were different too."

Winter had recovered enough of her breath to speak. "Everyone's soul is unique, Corporal. You will find that you likely have your own color."

Fairfire still eyed her somewhat cautiously. "You don't look so good, you alright?"

"Like I said, I am perfectly fine." Winter said, stiffening up her posture. "Activating the aura of someone who has put no training into it is quite the effort, and doing it twice in one day isn't normally advised."

"...Yet you did it anyway?" Fairfire pressed, more out of curiosity than suspicion.

Winter turned to face her directly. "I have direct orders from my superiors to assist you however possible in your operations. If that means educating you on the intricacies of aura, that is what I will do. Besides, this man has a broken leg, it's the least I can do to help him heal."

Fairfire nodded silently, satisfied with Winter's answer.

"Uh... Winter." Nathan prompted, getting her attention. "How do I actually use it?"

"With focus and rigorous training, at least, for most of an aura's functions." Winter stated. "Some abilities don't require any input from you, and will work automatically, such as your newly increased natural healing abilities. You should also find yourself substantially more resilient to disease, although you aren't any more immune to that than physical trauma, so don't go trying anything stupid."

"So, why doesn't everyone have their aura activated?" Yu asked.

"Because of the Grimm, and their ability to sense negative emotions." Winter stated. "A negative emotion from someone with an activated aura is substantially easier for them to detect, compared to someone without an activated aura."

"So... Nathan's a Grimm magnet now?" Fairfire asked, somewhat accusingly.

"He always has been, and he always will be." Winter stoically replied, returning her glare. "At least this way, he will be able to defend himself. I have no idea how you've managed to fight so much without aura."

"Well, bluntly speaking, your weapons suck." Nathan interjected, before quickly backing down under Winter's glare. "Maybe not yours specifically, but-"

"-Our technology, I understand your point, even if your vocabulary could use some work." Winter finished, her glare unwavering.

"Plus, we mainly use guns, heavier artillery, rockets, not... swords." Fairfire added, gesturing towards Winter's sheathed weapon.

Winter looked like she wanted to respond more harshly, but didn't. "...Without aura, I can see how you would gravitate towards ranged weapons. Distance can offer a great deal of protection, and in the absence of an aura's defensive abilities..."

"We learned that shooting the enemy works a whole lot better than stabbing them." Fairfire finished. "We still use bayonets, and the Covenant even have some particularly... concerning, melee weapons."

_That brings back a few more negative memories regarding Brute Chieftains than I would like to think about._ Nathan thought, forcing the offending thoughts out of his mind. _Although, with all that contraband aboard, we might have a hammer or two._

"I hope to never see either in use." Winter replied blankly, before turning to the Doctor. "I believe we're done here, activating another aura today would not be good for my health."

"I will defer to your expertise on the matter, if you have anything else you need to do, I see no reason to delay it." Doctor Chase said. "Still, if you wouldn't mind returning tomorrow... I have a few burn victims I could use some help with. We've kept them under for now, but-"

"I would be happy to help, Doctor." Winter answered, although her facial expression remained strictly professional, before she turned to Meadows. "Where to next, Sergeant?"

"The Bridge, at our earliest convenience." Meadows answered.

"Well I see no point in wasting time, let's go." Winter said, before walking towards the exit, accompanied by Meadows and Yu.

The Doctor stared after them for a bit, before turning her attention to Nathan. "I should also move along, use the call button if anything changes, alright Private? We still don't know everything about aura, so if you feel anything out of the ordinary, call me."

"I understand, Sir." Nathan replied as she left.

He turned his attention to Fairfire. "You sticking around?"

"I've sure as hell got nothing better to do." She replied with a somewhat annoyed expression. "Besides, it would be rude to leave you by your lonesome."

Nathan chuckled. "I appreciate the concern."

"That, and we still haven't gotten cleared for shore leave yet, so unless I wanna go clean my damn gun for the fourth time today, I'll stay right here." Fairfire said, before a grin overtook her face. "On the topic of shore leave, the first chance you and I get, we're going down to Menagerie and I'm gonna teach you all how to surf."

"Surf?" Nathan asked, somewhat concerned. "Like, wave riding?"

"That's right, and then, we're gonna go get some steamed clams, get wasted on whatever we can find, and maybe go visit the Lieutenant's stupid little sand castle." Fairfire said, with a bemused expression.

"Ya know, that doesn't sound so bad." Nathan replied.

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 8th, 1620 Menagerie Time, 2552**

When Winter and her Marine escort arrived, she found Commander Richard and Lieutenant Oswald waiting for her in the aptly named "War Room".

_Having an entire room dedicated to strategic conferences seems a bit inefficient, but I imagine it serves other purposes as well. _Winter thought, making yet another note of the UNSC's design philosophy. _It's as if their whole society is based around efficiency, from the way they build their warships to the way they sleep._

"-It was like a night and day difference." Thomas said, wrapping up what he was saying to Richard, before he noticed that Winter had entered the room. "Speaking of which, Specialist Schnee, it's good to see you. I take it that you were able to help the Doctor with what she needed?"

"I was able to activate another one of your soldier's auras, Private First Class Nathan Winters." She responded, taking a position of her own on the edge of the table. "I hope the Doctor wasn't expecting a miracle, a broken leg is a lot more taxing on an aura than food poisoning."

"She's pragmatic, she'll certainly understand if things aren't ideal." Richard stated with a degree of confidence. "But we should proceed, there are far more important matters to discuss."

_Here we go._ Winter thought, mentally preparing herself to do her duty, even if she still questioned it. Richard brought up a holographic representation of an Atlesian Knight, an older model 130, on the holotable.

"I'm sure you're at least relatively familiar with these, the automated drones utilized by your Kingdom's military." Richard stated.

"An Atlesian Knight, an older version, but still a threat if properly maintained and employed." Winter confirmed, making a note to emphasize that it was still capable despite its age.

"We've located a large number of these particular drones in service to the SDC, supplemented by several other, larger models. Our shipboard A.I has come to the conclusion that this model, and its contemporaries, are vulnerable to cyberwarfare attacks." Richard stated.

Winter's mind ignited with a litany of thoughts, stemming from concern to outright fear. If the UNSC could hack older models of Knight, the newer models that were in development could be vulnerable, not to mention the models they had in active service. If the UNSC could access them, there was no telling what kind of damage they could do.

_They wouldn't even need to fire a shot, they could just turn off our defenses and let the Grimm do the rest._ Winter morbidly thought.

"Controlling them remotely is out of the question, as the build-in software appears to have some sort of failsafe, frying the hardware to prevent capture. But we can use this as a means to disable them, and even completely destroy some of them remotely" Richard continued.

"And you can do this all the way from the Dominion?" Winter asked, not betraying her emotions on the matter.

"That's correct, our decryption software can be used anywhere we can get a stable connection." Richard answered, only solidifying her fears. "We've formulated a plan to exploit this vulnerability to facilitate a major strike, which we have dubbed Operation Bismarck. We'll strike at seven different mines at the same time, giving us an opportunity to evacuate the majority of the slaves in one move."

"That's certainly an ambitious plan." Winter commented, well aware of the limitations to their forces, but disabling all automated defenses in use by the Security Forces would create a valuable opportunity.

"I'd more say desperate, we're running against a clock here, and we don't even know how fast it's ticking." Thomas bluntly added.

_Well, he's notably unenthusiastic._ Winter thought, eyeing the man curiously.

"What the Lieutenant here is trying to say is that we don't have the luxury of waiting around for a long campaign." Richard stated, eyeing him disapprovingly. "As much as I would like to wait for Atlesian reinforcements, or get all of our Marines outfitted with an aura, we're losing an unknown number of slaves every day just to the conditions they're being kept in alone. The Doctor guessed we lose maybe a dozen people every day we wait, so time is of the essence."

Winter nodded, although she personally preferred not participating in wild guesswork, especially in regards to casualties. "So, what do you need me to do?"

"I need you to go over our reconnaissance for the targets we've selected and identify any and all weaknesses you can find." Richard answered. "I'll have the relevant data sent over to you as soon as possible."

"I'll see what I can do." Winter said, well aware that the defenses of demoralized mercenaries would be easy to pick apart, regardless of how well they were funded.

"There's something else." Richard stated. "I need you to tell General Ironwood to start swapping the systems of the Atlesian Military over to closed-networks. Curie would be more than happy to donate some of her encryption algorithms to bolster your defenses, and Ensign Gillespie on the Bridge is currently preparing a data-packet containing some firewall software to protect your most important information. It's not going to be infallible, but it's the best we can do with what we have."

Winter was incredibly surprised by his instructions. Not only did they expect her to report their discovery to the General, which she had anticipated, but they actually wanted her to. "...Commander?"

"The Atlesian Military is our ally, Specialist Schnee, we have no reason to leave you behind on the cyberwarfare front." Richard said, without changing tone. Winter could sense the invisible shift in his mood, as the man practically radiated frustration. "I wouldn't be telling you this if I had any intention of using this vulnerability against you."

Winter collected her thoughts and raised her suspicions. "How do we know your defenses don't have vulnerabilities of their own, designed to infiltrate us?"

Richard looked at her as if she were insane, but it was Thomas who interjected to answer her question. "Actually, we already can infiltrate you, and if you'll remember correctly, that's actually how we introduced ourselves to your General."

Winter paused to think for a moment, her own thoughts disturbed as Richard continued. "Can I be frank for a moment, Specialist, maybe help clear the air a bit?"

"Go ahead." Winter said after a moment of hesitation, not understanding why he felt the need to ask.

"The second that General Ironwood offered to cooperate with us on our mission, I took the opportunity. When he threatened us with a war that he couldn't win in order to get you aboard, I took his 'offer', do you know why I did that?" Richard asked.

Winter remained silent, but made it clear that she was listening by gesturing for him to continue.

"Because nobody on this ship wants to be fighting other humans." Richard stated, his tone suggesting that he was trying to hammer home a point that he figured would be obvious. "Nobody here wants to destroy Atlas, and in the event that we did, you'd be dead before you even knew we'd made our decision. But we aren't like that, we aren't murderers, we're soldiers, not a bunch of bloodthirsty maniacs."

Winter listened silently as Richard ranted with a bizarre sense of calmness. "All that we want is to do our damn job, protect the lives and safety of our fellow man, that's all we've ever wanted. Today, I learned just how infeasible a trip home is for us, and I'll admit that it's shifted my perspective somewhat. We aren't going to accomplish anything with all of this cloak and dagger nonsense, all we're going to do is pick ourselves apart and weaken ourselves as a species, we'd be doing the Grimm's job for them."

One part of his statement stood out to her, giving her an opportunity to ask a valuable question of her own. "So, you're staying on Remnant, permanently?"

"Yes, we are. As far as we know, this is the only planet humanity has right now, and to put it bluntly, our population is puny." Richard answered, his tone lightening somewhat, even if the content of his words didn't. "Humanity is weaker now than it's been in hundreds of years, and all it would take is one major disaster to send us to the brink of annihilation. We need to shore up what strength we can and bring Remnant into the twenty-sixth century, and we aren't going to do it by undercutting each other."

Winter was mildly disturbed by his words, there was little doubt in her mind that he was being honest, or at least, that he believed he was. "I believe I understand, Commander."

His expression didn't even shift. "Good, please try to remember that we aren't your enemy, we're here to help."

"No matter how much bureaucracy I have to wade through..." Lieutenant Oswald muttered, dramatically unprofessionally, much to Winter's annoyance.

Despite his comment, Richard ignored him. "Now, please, contact General Ironwood and do your best to convince him that we have no interest in hurting your military. Once you've done that, please see if you can identify any strategic weaknesses in the enemies defenses that we might have missed, bear in mind that certain elements of their forces may have been misread by our own scouts."

Winter was still relatively stunned, having not expected the outburst from him, although he hadn't once raised his voice. Not once had she lost her own professional demeanor, and she didn't intend to lose it now. "Was that all, Commander?"

"That was all Specialist, thank you. If you have any troubles with your datapad, you're more than welcome to use the terminal in your quarters, dismissed." Richard said, letting out a heavy sigh as she left.

**Menagerie**

**October 8th, 1943 Menagerie Time, 2552**

The soft clicking of a geiger counter overpowered any other quiet noise that emanated from Jorge's landing site. The sound of HAZOP suit boots walking across the sand would occasionally interrupt the steady sound, but for the most part, it was the only thing Ben could hear.

_There's nothing salvageable here, this was a waste of time._ He thought. He watched as the representative from Menagerie, the Huntress Mags, awkwardly waddled in her own environment suit. _At the very least we know that it's contaminated now, we should be able to clean up something this small._

"How bad is it?" Ben asked, kicking over some of the contaminated sand with his armored boot.

"The radiation is not immediately lethal, but it would present a very serious health hazard if exposed." Curie stated. "It would appear that it emanates from the damaged thruster assembly of the Pelican's wreckage, perhaps a breach to one of the reactors."

Ben looked around at the pieces of the Pelican that Jorge had used, parts were scattered all around him and the small team of engineers accompanying them, but most of the wreckage was centered around the fuselage. "I suppose that means nothing here is usable?"

"Well, there's nothing here that we should bother with, if that's what you're asking." she answered. "Although I imagine some of this Covenant-made battleplating would be a valuable recovery for Remnant's institutions of learning."

"The plating?" Ben asked, before walking over to where Mags was standing. "Hey Mags, would your nation have any interest in this alien armor?"

She seemed somewhat confused by the question. "Well, I might not know what to do with it, but I know the gents down at the drydock would kill for a chance to look at some of this." She answered, as she picked up a broken-off piece of alien pipework. "It's so light... and they have entire giant starships made of this stuff?"

"Don't let the low weight fool you, it's very strong." Ben said, prompting her to try to bend it, which she only managed to do slightly.

"Damn, I even put my aura into it a bit there, you weren't kidding." Mags said. "Are you sure that you all don't want this stuff?"

"I can't make the call to give it to you, but with what knowledge I have, I fail to see what we would do with any of this. We have samples of Covenant alloy already, and we've done plenty of research on it ourselves, it'd be better off in your hands." Ben said. "But like I said, I can't make the call to give it to you, we'll check in with command once we've gathered up what we can save."

"Well, it's certainly appreciated." Mags replied. "What about your dropship there?"

"Past the point of saving it, the only thing of value we picked out of it was the flight recorder, and even that was broken." Ben answered. "I wouldn't recommend trying to salvage any of that, however, we can only decontaminate so much with what we've brought here, and it's simply not worth the effort for a bit of scrap-worthy titanium."

Mags looked at the wreckage sadly. "Shame, those things certainly are impressive. Hopefully we can help you build more at some point."

"That's one of our goals ma'am, but it's not my field of expertise." Ben replied.

"Oh yeah, then what do you big metal dudes do?" Mags asked.

"Spartans are Special Forces, kinda like a Huntsman or Huntress, but baked into the military structure itself." Ben explained.

"Ah, like those Specialists up in Atlas then." Mags commented, somewhat disapprovingly. "The whole gist of the organization is that we aren't supposed to be bound by borders or nationality, but they didn't seem to get the message as well."

"We've met." Ben commented, remembering the Specialist he'd fought in Atlas. "I shot one of the bad ones with a grenade launcher."

"Heh, I knew I liked you guys for a reason." Mags replied, before something changed in her expression that Ben couldn't make out.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked, instinctively scanning the horizon for threats, but found nothing.

"...Where's all the Grimm?" she asked, with a hint of suspicion. "We're neck-deep in their territory, we should have definitely seen a few by now."

"Perhaps they are avoiding the radiation?" Curie suggested. "Although that is only a theory, their strange nature may offer some protection against it."

"Or it could be that Jorge cleared this place out on his way back to civilization, and nobody's moved back in yet." Ben added.

"Ah, that's probably it. I haven't met the man, but if he cleared out the Grimm in an area this far out... that says a lot about his capabilities." Mags said. "So, shall we actually get some damn work done?"

"Yes, we should." Ben answered, somewhat annoyed that he had gotten caught up talking without noticing it.

Picking out bits of valuable salvage didn't take long, as most of it was beyond repair. They gathered whatever was salvageable, decontaminated whatever needed it, and left, all without firing a shot.


	31. Chapter 31

**UNSC Dominion, Vehicle Bay**

**October 8th, 1958 Menagerie Time, 2552**

Operation Bismarck was the largest operation that Richard had ever drafted. Almost every plan he'd ever drawn up in a live combat environment either involved hiding their Prowler or strategically placing a handful of nuclear mines somewhere that they could do some much-needed damage. It also didn't help that it was an in-atmosphere operation, placing it somewhat out of his field of expertise, although the handful of raids they'd run on the SDC to keep them on their toes had offered him some firsthand experience of what to expect.

It helped that the Dominion was a different kind of animal than a Prowler, a prowler was like a cat, quietly sneaking up and pouncing upon the enemy with a fistful of nukes. In this new world, she was like a Titan from Greek legend, a mythical, practically invincible creature laden with the destructive power to destroy anything in her path.

_But that's how you get complacent, isn't it?_ Richard thought, somewhat sardonically. _Over-reliance on equipment gets people killed. Still, ignoring the capabilities of said equipment is an equally bad idea._

He agonized considerably over whether to deploy the Dominion herself into the battle. On one hand, she was without a doubt their strongest asset, and her weaponry would make short work of any enemy resistance at one of the target sites. On the other hand, it placed their most valuable asset, the only human warship now in existence, in harm's way. It was only when Richard learned just how stretched-thin the forces on the ground would be that he elected to deploy it into battle.

_Thank god we have a full airwing, I can't imagine sending any of these people into battle against odds like this without air cover._ Richard thought, noting how even with most of the Atlesian-made defenses disabled, they would be outnumbered four-to-one.

"Commander, please come here, I need to speak with you for a moment!" Lieutenant Clark called out from the line of tanks. He and his detachment of Marines from Menagerie had been recalled for the duration of the operation, with only the Dominion's technicians staying behind.

Richard quickly joined him by the tanks, and immediately saw the source of his concern. One of the Scorpions was sitting with its turret removed, while the turret in question was laying in pieces, half-packed into their crates. "...This isn't getting back into action in time, is it?"

Clark nodded, his frustration evident even under his helmet's visor. "Not for another few days, at the very least. We need a quick solution, and I believe I have one."

Clark handed over his datapad, which Richard quickly read. It was fairly simple, they would replace the firepower of the scorpion by outfitting two of the Warthogs with heavy Gauss cannons. "There's a big risk of over-penetration here..."

"We'd be using them as anti-personnel weapons, to up our firepower enough to crack their shields in one shot." Clark explained. "Ideally they'll lose enough speed punching through the target to ricochet somewhere else when the slug leaves."

_Well, at least it'll be quick._ Richard thought with a wince of admittedly misplaced sympathy. "Do it, but try to ration the shots, we don't have that many."

"Will do, Sir. I've also finished our deployment plan on the next page, at least for the Marines. I'll leave air-support to you and the XO, but we're going to need it everywhere." Clark said.

Richard swiped over to the next report, seeing how Lieutenant Clark had his units laid out. There were seven targets that had been selected, Point Adolf, Point Frankfurt, Point Kaiser, Point Erika, Point Josef, Point Dresden, and Point Guderian. Each of the six Platoons of Zulu Company was tasked with capturing a site, with Onyx taking the final point.

It was a simple plan that lacked obvious flaws, but without support, the infantry would be torn to ribbons by any entrenched numerically-superior force, regardless of their training or technology. The Third Armor Company would provide heavy fire support for every attack, with every single functioning vehicle in the unit deployed. Zulu Company would also be putting some of their Warthogs and Lynxes to use, offering some extra firepower and mobility.

Richard gave a nod and returned the datapad. "I'll get a plan drafted up for aerial coverage with Lieutenant Bradford. The Dominion will provide close fire-support over one of the targets, where are we needed the most?"

Clark answered almost immediately. "Point Kaiser, it's the most fortified by several orders of magnitude. If we have the Dominion in play, I can free up the Grizzlies there to support other units."

"Good, double-check your intel and send it down the line, we move in tomorrow morning." Richard replied.

"What time, Sir?" Clark asked, looking back up from his tablet.

"0700, Atlas time, Specialist Schnee says that's when they switch shifts." Richard answered.

Clark paused. "...Can we trust what she says?"

Richard shrugged. "We were going to hit them in the morning either way, worst-case scenario, they're ready for us by the time we get everyone on the ground, and we soften them up from extreme range."

Clark nodded, although he seemed dissatisfied. "Yeah, that's our biggest problem here, is the damn Pelicans, we just don't have enough. We'll need an hour just to get all of the assaults underway."

Richard nodded solemnly. The other six Pelicans attached to the Dominion had been given to the UNSC Musashi, as a means to replace the carrier's own losses. Unfortunately, a quick look at the casualty report confirmed that the Musashi had been among the losses at Reach, likely including all of their Pelicans.

_Not that we'd have a way of actually getting them here, of course._ Richard thought bitterly.

"We're already using the Darters and Albatrosses, can we use the hornets for troop deployment?" Richard asked.

"Not safely, but I do have a solution. We deploy Onyx via SOEIV. That'll free up another Darter and would make my job a bit easier." Clark suggested.

Richard paused. Every member of Onyx would be trained in the usage of a Single Occupant Exoatmospheric Insertion Vehicle, so that wasn't a concern. The Atlesian weather and Remnant's stable climate also meant that burning up on re-entry was a very low risk, so that was another risk that could be ruled out. On the other hand, it also meant the Dominion's flight path would pass them over two enemy positions, and would leave little room for flexibility.

"We'll do it." Richard decided, before keying his comm. "Lieutenant, do you read?"

Bradford's voice replied almost immediately. "I read, go ahead."

"Tell Onyx to run inspections on the drop pods, and to load their equipment for a hot landing." Richard instructed. "Once that's done, meet me on the Bridge, we need to divide up the airwing."

"Aye Sir, I'll be there momentarily, out." Bradford replied.

Richard released the comm and turned one last time to Clark, speaking quietly. "You're certain we can hit all seven? Don't get me wrong, we need to help those people, but if you can't..."

Clark waved off his concerns. "Some of these men have faced down the Covenant on a dozen worlds, and they didn't fail me then. We'll do our part, and end this war before it gets any worse."

Richard gave a thankful nod. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'll let you get back to your own work."

**Atlas, Schnee Manor**

**October 8th, 2122 Atlas Time, 2552**

A late night's coffee always made any bit of good news that little bit better, at least, after Jacques had learned to drink decaf. His political motions had begun to bear fruit, and his security staff had completed their goals in an impressive amount of time. For the first time in several stressful nights, he felt confident, a welcome change of pace.

Powerful new weapons had made their way into the hands of his men, outweighed only by an unexpected private contribution beyond his most optimistic hopes, a trio of Atlesian Cruisers. Previously, his company had only operated their own line of unarmed airships, along with a squadron of combat-grade Mantas. But with several of Atlas's largest and most powerful airships under his control, they might just be able to contest the UNSC in the air. But the vessels also presented a large target, which demanded great care to keep them out of the enemies attention, as such, his newly expanded airfleet would lay waiting in reserve, waiting to respond to any further UNSC attacks.

Veteran and experienced fighters poured into the newly expanded Security Force, with some of the more courageous and prideful members of the military even defecting to join his own forces, where they were welcomed with open arms and healthy paychecks. The Military itself officially aligned themselves with the UNSC, but Ironwood was far too busy with turbulent Grimm activity to contribute anything meaningful, leaving Atlas's public frustrated and divided as to who they supported.

_Although, it is nice to see that most Atlesians are willing to side with their countrymen over a bunch of animals. _Jacques thought, reading a new article about the debates and minor conflicts that had broken out. _Although it makes me wonder if the UNSC has some sort of ulterior motive, surely a handful of cheap laborers isn't worth the bloodshed: Perhaps this is simply a matter of personal pride?_

Regardless of their motivations, the enemy had proven themselves to be capable tacticians, at least, that's what his officers had told him. He was willing to defer to their expertise, as many of them had well-established careers already established in the business of violence, which Jacques had never held any personal interest in. Atlas's military pride and legendary fighting spirit meant that there was no shortage of skilled leaders for his men.

Unfortunately, the massive technological advantages of the UNSC left them with difficulty planning. Eventually, they finally proposed a counter-strategy, to concentrate their defensive efforts into a small number of the most important locations. The plan made Jacques doubtful and frustrated, as many of their valuable mines and refineries would simply be left empty and useless. But he was assured they would be reclaimable after the conflict had ended, and that they would be attacked if any garrison remained.

In the end, he accepted their plan, recognizing that despite the temporary losses, they would survive to make a recovery. The UNSC had started to make a habit of deploying large forces to attack small garrisons, leading to the numbers being heavily skewed against the defenders. Their apparent strength had left him quietly fearful that he could become a target, eased only when General Ironwood announced that the city of Atlas, as well as Mantle, would stand as demilitarized zones for both the SDC and the UNSC.

_Which makes perfect sense, of course. It's only my property that's in danger, not his!_ Jacques had publicly responded, although he was privately relieved.

Interestingly, the UNSC seemed to want to avoid provoking large battles, aside from the single major mine they had attacked. They mainly relegated their efforts to small hit-and-run attacks, not dissimilar to the White Fang, as well as truly devastating computer-attacks. Whatever kind of computer systems the UNSC had, they had utterly demolished the SDC's liquid asset stockpile, leaving practically every bank account they had empty.

_I hope James realizes it will be more than us that suffers if we don't get that insurance bill passed!_ Jacques thought, referring to a new piece of major legislation that would offer some sort of relief for his dying business. _All of Atlas's economy will be shattered, and Remnant as a whole will suffer without us, what will they do without Dust?_

There was one upside in how the UNSC conducted warfare, unlike the White Fang, they were willing to display a degree of mercy. For every employee the UNSC had killed, they had captured another, whilst "liberating" any of the Faunus employees that they found in their operations.

_Perhaps this could be further evidence that the UNSC may not be fully committed to this war, or is it that they lack the ruthlessness to conduct warfare properly?_ Jacques pondered, wondering if at some point in the future, maybe they could end the conflict peacefully. _But they'll attempt to strike us again, and we need to give them a black eye when they do, enough to break their spirit._

He finished his drink, before checking the time. It was high time he got some sleep, maybe he wouldn't even be disturbed this time. As he stood up, his scroll rang.

_Figures._ Jacques said with a sigh, answering the device. "What?"

"Sir, we've completed the new line of fortifications at the Selfoss Strip Mine. Major Garrett also wanted to make his report on the Faunus laborers, he said it was urgent." The man on the other end of the line said. Jacques didn't know who it was, as he'd been communicating with hundreds of people every day, but it was the information that was important.

"His report will have to wait, I'll call him tomorrow." Jacques replied, trying to subtly communicate that he was busy. "Was that all?"

"He also wanted to report that the airships are operational and cleared for action, but I'm afraid he didn't give me the details, he seemed quite busy with something." The man said, to Jacques's mild frustration.

"I will discuss it with him then, goodnight, soldier." Jacques said, with a hint of finality, before ending the call. "... What in the world could be so important as to call me at this time of night?"

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 8th, 2234 Menagerie Time, 2552**

Richard had attempted to conduct most of his communications with Chief Belladonna only during reasonable timeframes, but the circumstances demanded a late-night call, and Richard was confident that Ghira would be professional enough to look past it. The screen of the communications terminal on the Bridge flickered, before the Chieftain's large frame dominated the camera.

"You're on, go ahead, Sir." Ensign Gillespie prompted, before standing up and turning his attention to other duties in order to give Richard some room. He sat down at the station, and wirelessly connected the audio output to his earpiece, offering a degree of privacy while also cutting down on the amount of noise he would be contributing to the Bridge.

"Good evening Commander, I trust everything's going well for you and your crew?" Ghira asked, his professional yet friendly demeanor a welcome change of pace from the frustrated but dutiful expressions he'd grown used to.

Richard gave a solemn nod, hoping that what he was about to ask wouldn't come across personally offensive in some manner. "I wish I had better news, but I'm afraid we need some help. We have a major operation against the SDC planned for tomorrow, and we're expecting to recover hundreds of wounded Faunus."

Ghira subtly straightened his posture, no doubt recognizing the seriousness of the situation. "What do you need from us?"

_Straight to the point, good man._ Richard thought. "We need assistance in treating all of them. We can temporarily stabilize the injured, and the Dominion has the medical facilities for around half of them, but we'll still need a place to put over a hundred and fifty people, and most of them will be in very bad shape."

Ghira gave a serious nod. "This is rather short notice, you said this is happening tomorrow?"

"We launch at noon, your time." Richard answered. "The operation is predicted to take maybe four hours at worst, five if we're particularly unlucky. After that, we'll head for high-altitude and perform a low-orbit burn to Menagere, which will take another hour."

Ghira's expression shifted to one of thoughtfulness. "That might just give us enough time, I think we can do it, if we keep working through the night, at least.

"...and you can care for them after that?" Richard pressed, knowing that asking him to suddenly take in over three-hundred fresh migrants was a steep request.

Ghira waved his hand dismissively. "Every Faunus has a place in Menagerie, you let us worry about restarting these poor people's lives. Focus on your own people's safety, you're the ones who will be doing the fighting!"

_As reasonable a request as any._ Richard thought. "Thank you Chieftain, and keep in mind, we'll be needing to bring the Dominion in for a landing to deliver your people, so make sure your citizens are ready for that. We're going to make an awfully big impression, and we'll need your main airstrip cleared completely in order to use the main lift safely."

Ghira looked at him quizzically. "I don't think you realize just how popular you've all become, especially with some of the things you've done for us. Restoring the CCTS was impressive on its own, but fighting a war on behalf of the Faunus... you've certainly made an impression."

"We're fighting for more than just the Faunus, but that conversation will have to wait for another day. We have a lot to do up here, and I would strongly suggest you begin your preparations immediately." Richard said with a slight frown.

"I will see to it immediately, best of luck, Commander." Ghira said, before Richard ended the communication.

_On the behalf of the Faunus... I hope he realizes we aren't a personal attack dog._ Richard thought, but he was optimistic that Ghira had the humility and wisdom to realize that.

**UNSC Dominion, Drop Bay "Hell's Waiting Room"**

**October 9th, 0648 Atlas Time, 2552**

The drop bay of the Charon Class was more akin to a rapid-reload missile launcher than a conventional drop bay. Three vertical tubes ran throughout six entire decks, leading out the bottom of the ship, permitting the deployment of up to forty SOEIV drop pods in quick succession, for a fraction of the space that was used in a similar bay on a cruiser or carrier.

"-but this impressive capability is offset by the exorbitant cost of the system. In fact, its extreme expense was an important factor in the design process of the later Stalwart Class Light Frigate-" Curie droned, continuing a several minute long slew of starship trivia that even Ben was surprised she knew.

The rest of the team seemed somewhat disinterested with what she was saying, with the exception of Yu, who listened intently to every word the A.I had to say. But for the most part, they focused on their preparations.

Curie was interrupted when the door to the drop bay opened, and a large, armored figure entered the room. Everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to face the man.

Dozens of dents, burns, and scratches covered Jorge's armor, offering a hint as to its extensive career. Jorge stood even taller than Ben, although it was a very close comparison, with only a millimeter or two between them. In his right hand was a personally modified M247H Machine Gun, a weapon traditionally mounted onto a tripod or another mount, which he famously carried into battle himself.

"Damn..." Meadows muttered, momentarily pausing his work on his Battle Rifle as he was stunned by the sight.

"It's good to see you up and about LT. Is your suit all squared away?" Fairfire asked, although her attempt at professionalism was muddled somewhat by her giddy expression.

"Everything important, at the very least." Jorge replied. "We drop in ten mikes, be done by then, we've got a schedule to keep."

"Sir yes Sir." Ben heartily replied, joined shortly thereafter by the rest of the squad.

"Monsieur Jorge, please remember to not place too much strain on the auxiliary power systems, I have middling confidence in their functionality." Curie interjected, piggybacking off of Ben's helmet to speak with him.

"I wouldn't be wearing it if I wasn't confident it would work." Jorge said reassuringly, pausing only to check the magnetic seal on his ammunition pack. "Staff Sergeant, is everything squared away with the pods?"

"Yes Sir, chutes are configured per your specifications." Fairfire reported as she loaded her shotgun, triple-checking the safety.

"Good, once you're ready, grab your kit and seal your caskets." Jorge said, running a quick examination of the rest of the squad. "Weather's a bit rough as well, so bear that in mind."

"Can't be worse than Concord, you all would have drowned in all the mud, what with all the tin you wear" Yu commented, as she shouldered her rocket launcher.

"You can sink in snow just as easily as mud, don't get complacent." Jorge said, although his tone wasn't as harsh as Ben would've expected. "Sergeant, Curie's deadline is just about here."

"Yes Sir." Ben said, placing his assault rifle on the holotable before inserting Curie's data chip. "Alright Curie, give em' hell."

"They'll never know what hit them..." Curie muttered, before she briefly pulsed a darker blue. "My viruses are now active, the enemy will realize what has happened before long."

"That was fast." Jorge observed, seemingly impressed.

"I handled the infiltration hours ago, all I needed to do was send the activation code, and the software will do the rest." Curie replied modestly.

"Still, nice work." Ben said, retrieving Curie's data-chip and returning it to his neural lace.

He gave his assault rifle a quick visual inspection, well aware that all of the internal mechanisms were fully functional. He also gave his secondary plasma pistol a quick examination, confirming it was fully charged and that the emitter was clear.

"Every piece of Covie tech at your disposal, and you picked that thing?" Fairfire asked, somewhat teasingly.

"Curie says that an overcharged shot should be able to immolate just about whatever I point it at, aura or not." Ben justified. "Also, she said I'm not allowed to bring an energy sword."

"Curie!" Fairfire protested in mock disapproval. "How dare you rein him in like that?!"

"I merely suggested he let me experiment with recharging them before we deploy them, I am well aware of the tactical value of the weapons, especially as tools." Curie justified. "If I may change the subject, have you fitted the shield gauntlet correctly?"

"Oh, you mean this?" Fairfire asked, raising her left arm, which had a jackal shield gauntlet secured to the armor with a pair of ad-hoc fastening belts. "Well, it works, albeit with a bit of discomfort. Who would've known their crap doesn't fit our armor?"

"Hey, if you don't want yours, I'll happily take two." Yu interjected.

"Shut your mouth, Corporal. I've got enough to worry about without your begging." Fairfire retorted, before turning back to Ben. "But yeah, they don't fit all that well, do you think we could cook up a better way to clip them on?"

Curie was about to respond when a klaxon sounded throughout the ready room, followed by a flashing amber alarm light. "I believe we will have to discuss this later."

"I'm afraid so. Alright Ben, keep the good lady company, I'll see you on the ground." Fairfire replied, before slinging her shotgun over her shoulder, before climbing up the ladder to board her pod.

Ben quickly secured his own equipment and climbed up the access ladder to his own drop pod. As he strapped his weaponry in, Curie interjected. "Just so you know, Point Guderian was one of the most fortified locations, we may need to get creative."

"Good thing you're coming along then." Ben replied, before climbing into the pod himself and sealing the doors, triple-checking that all of the seals had properly functioned, one broken atmospheric or heat seal and he would have a very rough time entering the atmosphere.

_I wonder if I'd even survive to hit the floor, Mjolnir is rated for long falls, but without a re-entry pack..._ Ben thought, before banishing the unhelpful line of thought. _Focus, we've got a job to do._

His pod shifted, before he could feel one of the mechanical arms of the system lift him into position, before a second jolt indicated that he was locked into the deployment rack. Ben checked the obligatory systems check, disarmed the pod's safety, and ensured that the ejection tube was armed.

"It seems that our Battle-net is already active, it seems like some of the other units have already made contact with the Grimm." Curie noted.

"Is the mission jeopardized?" Ben asked, if Grimm were running rampant already, that could cause serious problems for the Marines.

"Not yet, but we should remain vigilant, the Grimm may prove to be a larger issue if we ignore them." Curie said. "I've sent a warning to Lieutenant Jorge, he should know what to do."

_I suppose he would have experience fighting the Grimm, wouldn't he?_ Ben thought, recalling the Spartan's story.

Two of the display monitors inside his pod flickered to life, displaying Jorge's helmet in the left monitor and Fairfire's red-accented ODST helmet in the right.

"Intel suggests the enemy are already engaged with local wildlife, we should be able to get the drop on them." Jorge relayed.

Fairfire gave a soft chuckle at Jorge's unintentional pun. "Any idea if they're winning without all of their robots?"

"We're not gonna find out up here." Jorge answered. "All units confirm green status."

Ben pinged his status light green, and saw on his HUD that all of his teammates had done the same.

"Confirmed, stand by." Jorge added.

A series of four tones passed by, extremely quickly, with the fourth tone sounding louder, accompanied by the explosive bolts firing, releasing his pod. After less than a second of freefall, the pod's dorsal thruster activated, accelerating both him and the pod to terminal velocity within seconds. Ben always had a slight phobia of heights following his rather eventful first day of training, but he was perfectly capable of handling his fears, still, he gave the two control sticks of the pod a tight grip, as a way of affirming that he was in control of this particular fall.

"So uh, is it too late to go to the bathroom?" Yu asked over TEAMCOM, which Ben was reluctant to admit he found somewhat funny.

"Clear the comms, Corporal." Fairfire replied, although her depolarized visor gave away her smirk.

Through the front viewport, Ben could see several other drop pods with plumes of fire formed beneath them, only held away from the ceramic heat shields by the shockwave of the pod's intense speed. Shortly there afterwards, the fires began to rapidly dissipate as the atmosphere thickened and slowed the pods slightly, although their speed was hardly compromised. Flakes of rapidly cooling molten ceramic continued to fly from the bottom of his pod, having literally melted to protect the rest of the pod from terrible thermal energy. The other pods had disappeared, eaten up by thick clouds.

_It's only meant for a one-way trip anyway._ Ben thought, realizing that these drop pods represented yet another valuable asset to be rationed.

"Five clicks off the deck, standby." Jorge stated, moments later, the airbrakes of the pod activated, stabilizing it's descent and further slowing it.

Several seconds after the air brakes fired, they finally breached the cloud layer, revealing the rapidly-approaching ground. Around fifty meters off the ground, the pod's single-use chemical rockets fired, turning the fatal fall into a safe but somewhat uncomfortable one. Ben felt the sudden deceleration shift his entire body slightly, and without the pod's advanced shock-absorbers, he would have likely been killed by the force. The landing with the ground was far rougher, as Ben smashed through some sort of barrier at such a speed that even with Spartan Time it took him an extra moment to discern where he had landed.

As soon as his vision recovered, he realized he was in some sort of mess hall, his pod having haphazardly penetrated through the concrete ceiling, a plastic foldable table, before finally coming to a halt within the concrete floor. Thankfully, it seemed like nobody was currently in the room.

"Agh... never gonna be used to that." Ben said, letting the pressure of the pod rapidly cycle before the explosive pins of the door detonated, launching the door off of its hinges and flying through the cafeteria, causing mass destruction to the poorly-secured furniture.

"I do not blame you, that was a rather brutal entrance." Curie replied as Ben took a cautious peek out of the pod to ensure his flanks were secure, before climbing out and retrieving his weapons.

"Onyx, report." Jorge's voice came through on TEAMCOM, sounding as if it were any other day at the office.

Ben flashed another green indication on his HUD, noticing that everyone except Meadows had given up a similar green status.

"Meadows here, landed in an enemy bunker of some kind... all tangos neutralized. Debris has me pinned, I can't get the damn door open." he said.

"We'll come to you, everyone, grab your kit, regroup on Meadow's pod, avoid contact with the enemy." Jorge ordered, everyone except Meadows gave a brief acknowledgement with the status lights.

Ben retrieved the last of his equipment, and began to walk towards the nearest exit to the room, a set of two doors labeled 'exit'. "Shall we get to it then?"

"Yes, let's." Curie replied, before Ben opened the door.

**Authors Note: I am somewhat ashamed to admit that I actually forgot that the status lights existed, which is odd, considering how prevalent they are in the books. Nevertheless, I will include them from now on, so that Jorge doesn't get bombarded by 11 people all saying "yes" in some manner, which wouldn't really make much sense.**


	32. Chapter 32

**Point Guderian, AKA Selfoss Strip Mine**

**October 9th, 0700 Atlas Time, 2552**

It seemed that the enemies defenses at Point Guderian had been aimed almost entirely at keeping opponents from attacking from the ground, with very little attention given to the air. By deploying via Drop-pod, it was readily apparent that Onyx had taken them completely off-guard. Panicked screaming and gunfire filled the air as soon as Ben exited what was now clearly the Enemy's Barracks. The report of energy weapons also sounded loudly, a worrying reminder of the Enemy's capabilities.

The door led to a large balcony, overlooking a large rectangular courtyard lined with large concrete structures. The Courtyard itself was filled with a variety of heavy machinery, presumably relevant in some way to mining or refining of Dust. Somewhat surprisingly, none of it seemed to be in working order.

It seemed that Ben's pod had managed to land away from all of the fighting, as he couldn't spot anyone else in the immediate area, Grimm or human alike. He did see several airborne Grimm in the distance, although they didn't seem to have any interest in him. It seemed that for the moment, he was alone, even as the sounds of battle seemed to completely surround him.

"Interesting, it appears we have landed in an advantageous position. I wonder why there are no hostile defenders here?" Curie pondered.

"I imagine they're all on the way to the emergency staff meeting at the defenses." Ben jokingly answered, listening as an explosion sounded in the distance. "Which way did Sergeant Meadows land?"

"Approximately two-hundred and thirty meters northeast, I shall place a nav-point." Curie answered. Shortly afterwards, a small red arrow appeared to point over one of the other buildings. "I suggest we take a shortcut through the storage building that's in the way."

With newfound direction, Ben climbed over the railing and dropped off the balcony onto the ground. Once he landed, he tried to keep close to the wall of the barracks as he moved, figuring that at least the poorly-painted wall would break up his silhouette, whereas the machinery in the courtyard was too far out of the way to be useful as cover.

As he got closer to the building that stood in his path, he felt a sudden feeling of foreboding. He paused, and scanned his surroundings again, wondering if he had subconsciously spotted something out of the ordinary, but his examination yielded nothing.

"Is something wrong?" Curie asked, noticing the oddity in his behavior.

"Just a gut feeling-" Ben got most of the way through saying, before he spotted a glint of light in one of the upper-story windows of the building before him.

His training kicked in immediately, and he dove to the ground, but the Sniper had already taken his first shot by the time that Ben's instincts kicked in. The Sniper's bullet impacted his visor, knocking out well over half of his energy-shield. He stifled a swear as he scrambled back up to his feet, narrowly avoiding a follow-up shot and breaking into a sprint.

_The building is the closest cover._ Ben realized, but sprinting directly towards the Sniper without any sort of cover was suicidal.

The Sniper took a third shot, which grazed nearly harmlessly across his right leg, barely even scraping his shields. Ben responded by aiming his rifle without breaking pace and firing a long burst of suppressive gunfire towards the window, which seemed to deter the Sniper long enough for him to reach the base of the building. He pressed himself up against the wall as flatly as he could, trying to avoid the Sniper's line of sight.

"What the hell did he hit me with?" Ben calmly asked as he took a cautious glance upwards, confirming he was out of the Sniper's firing arc, protected by a thin rim of concrete that lined the edge of the building.

"A ballistic firearm, with an unprecedented velocity for Remnant's weaponry. I strongly suggest we investigate further, I will contact Lieutenant Jorge for permission to pursue the target." Curie replied, worry evident in her voice.

_Well, we sure as hell won't be able to evacuate the slaves with a live Sniper in the area._ Ben thought, raising his rifle and slowly creeping towards the open double doors of the building. Regardless of his next objective, he would still need to clear the building.

**Selfoss Strip Mine, Heavy Equipment Storage, Third Floor**

**October 9th, 0705 Atlas Time, 2552**

Major Garrett genuinely couldn't remember a time where he had been more scared. He'd seen some truly gruesome things in his career, from his teammates being devoured before him during his training at Atlas Academy, to his limited tenure as a Specialist in the military, where he had failed to rescue his subordinates from White Fang custody, and witnessed the truly terrible fate that befell the prisoners. More recently, there was the fact that the Schnee Dust Company, whom he'd enthusiastically left retirement to help defend, was actually running a brutal slaving operation behind the scenes.

Of course, he'd heard the rumors, but he had assumed that they were just accounts of racism that were blown out of proportion by zealous newscasters, more interested in their ratings than any sort of journalistic integrity. Of course, the one goddamn time he took a gamble on the conspiracy theory being false, it was actually true.

_And now I'm being chased by a bulletproof lunatic who can run as fast as a car, all of our defenses are offline, and we have Grimm inside the perimeter, Brilliant!_ He thought bitterly, throwing his rifle up the ladder and onto the roof, before climbing up himself and bolting the hatch shut. _Couldn't these Alien jackoffs have waited one more day until I got a chance to solve all this crap myself?!_

Ironically, his previous military connections had earned him a position of prestige and admiration long before he actually showed up for assignment. Had he known exactly what he was signing up to defend, he would probably have either spat in the face of the SDC recruiter or shoved his rifle up their ass, maybe both. But instead, like the optimistic dumbass he was, he signed up, thinking that maybe he could do some good against the Alien invaders.

He bolted down the length of the roof, moving at maximum speed by using his Aura's massive mobility enchancement. Once he reached the edge of the roof, he took a quick look at the gap between the Heavy Equipment Storage building and the neighboring Refinery building, a twenty-foot gap, easily. In one move, he launched himself into the air and landed on the roof of the Refinery without any issue. Without an Aura of his own, the Alien would be unable to cross the gap.

A loud slamming sound echoed from behind him, he turned and raised his Sniper rifle, and spotted the helmet of the armored Alien peek out from the ladder. He took a poorly aimed shot, which would have miraculously hit its mark, had the Alien not managed to duck out of the way.

Garrett was lucky, lucky in the sense that his semblance was combat-based. Not only that, it had a high application to the type of work he used to do for the Atlesian government. Through the use of his semblance he could give his bullets a boost in speed. Of course, that had the added benefit of making them more powerful upon impact. His opponent had managed to duck out of the way, but beyond that, he had actually taken one shot directly to the head. It wasn't impossible, he had seen people with their own semblances that cold counter or even the lucky guy with absurd aura reserves. It was rare though, and yet the first alien he had encountered appeared to be one of those kinds of people.

_Figures._ He bitterly thought.

He cycled the bolt of his rifle and turned to flee further down the refinery roof. He was well aware that he was poorly equipped for close or even mid-range combat, with only his rifle and a low-quality combat knife that he'd pilfered from one of the dead Atlesian Knights. He had briefly considered taking its pulse-laser rifle, but he had decided against carrying the extra weight, a decision he now regretted.

He ran across the roof of the refinery, making it around halfway to the other end of the roof before the first bullet hit him in the back. He had taken a grazing hit earlier, which had given him some indication of just how badly the Alien bullets hurt, but this was a direct hit into a muscle. It felt like he'd been hit with a red-hot sledgehammer, causing him to involuntarily stumble forwards. Falling proved to be a blessing in disguise, as it freed him from several other bullets that flew over his head, although several more continued to hit him as he got back to his feet.

_I can't stand up to that kind of firepower, I'll have to switch routes._ Garrett realized, before throwing himself off of the roof. He hadn't had proper time to aim his fall, but luck was on his side, as he crashed through the skylight of one of the refinery's single-story extensions, and pulled himself back up to his feet.

Recognizing that the Alien would have had to jump the gap to follow him, he elected to use the time he had bought to put some difference between it and him. He bolted down the hallway that followed the refinery's coolant line before he heard a loud crash, accompanied by breaking glass behind him. He turned and saw that the Alien had followed him through a window. He fired off another poorly aimed shot, which missed its target, before sprinting down the coolant service line at full speed.

The Alien let off another short burst of gunfire, and Garrett suffered another two hits from the Alien's machine gun before he was able to round a corner into another service tunnel, which would lead to the main defense line.

_This is just not my day..._ He thought, redoubling his pace as he heard the Alien continue to follow him.

**Point Guderian, Main Defense Line**

**October 9th, 0709 Atlas Time, 2552**

Four Beowolves danced around one of the watchtowers, diving in and out of the line of sight of the guard manning the station. Despite the guard's best efforts, they were unable to score a good hit on any of their targets. With no warning, a torrent of gunfire suddenly swept the base of the tower, killing all of the Beowolves in a matter of seconds. One of the tower's supports met a similar fate, topping both the building and its occupant into the snow roughly.

"Heh, that's good to know." Jorge commented to no-one in particular, noting the lackluster quality of the defensive structures.

His drop pod had tunneled its way rather brutally through one of the evergreen trees, the same kind that made up the vast forests of Reach. He only allowed himself a moment's nostalgia, as he had a lot to do. He quickly set about ripping apart the enemies defenses from the unique angle he had been offered while he made his way to the Rendezvous point, following the makeshift path that was offered by the enemies Defensive Line. It seemed that the trapped Helljumper had landed somewhere else on the Line, but still in Jorge's relative proximity.

Jorge spotted a trio of SDC soldiers running through the open, who were attempting to reach the Defensive Line from a series of concrete structures. He paused, took a steady grip on his weapon, and unleashed a terrifying barrage of gunfire. The 12.7mm High-Velocity Explosive rounds created a storm of shrapnel and bullets that the enemy soldiers were unable to avoid. Even as they returned fire, he kept up his barrage, before long, the three opponents lay dead.

_Hmm, seems that some of these guys are tougher than others._ Jorge thought. _I guess Aura doesn't work so well for everyone._

A burst of light flew past him, burning a deep gash into the snow behind him. Jorge turned to face the source, and saw that the SDC soldier who he had thrown from their tower was now firing at him with a laser rifle. Jorge gave a barrage of suppressive fire as he positioned himself behind better cover, the wreckage of some strange four-legged battle robot, which had been rendered inoperable by Curie.

Before he could peek out of cover to deliver another burst, some kind of flying Grimm that resembled a lion with wings swooped down and grabbed the SDC trooper, who lost grip of their weapon as they were pulled away. Jorge took the liberty of ending both threats with a slightly longer than average burst of gunfire.

_They're like Buggers, but worse..._ Jorge thought, disturbed by what he had seen. _At least these ones don't have plasma pistols._

Jorge's motion tracker alerted him to several more flying contacts above him, and he quickly realized that the flying lion had not come alone. At least half a dozen of its kind circled at a low-altitude over him. One of them attempted to dive on him a quick burst of gunfire from Jorge that ensured that it was dead before it hit the ground. The rest seemed to recognize the threat he posed, and dove as a group, attempting to overwhelm him from various angles.

Forcing himself to use short controlled bursts, Jorge tore two of them apart before turning to blast apart a third. The remaining three surprised him by pulling away before they landed, before proceeding to spit balls of fire at him. One of the fireballs missed, but three hit their mark, dissipating over his energy shields with minimal damage.

Jorge gave a mild huff of annoyance as he retaliated, killing the remainder of the flock with little effort. Before he could continue along the SDC's defensive line, his helmet's communication system alerted him to an incoming transmission.

"Onyx, this is Dominion, requesting SITREP." A man's voice came through, who Jorge recognized as Ensign Gillespie.

"This is Onyx Actual, we've landed and engaged the enemy, but we're still regrouping. No sign of the packages so far." Jorge replied, not allowing himself to be distracted as he blew a smaller Grimm, some sort of canine, into a fine black mist.

"Affirmative Onyx, move to eliminate all enemy resistance. Be advised, congestion will delay air support, Excalibur estimates fifteen minutes till arrival." Gillespie said.

_Huh, I guess the Sparrowhawks are in high demand._ Jorge thought. "Onyx copies all."

"Good hunting, Dominion out." Gillespie stated, before the transmission ended.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 9th, 0715 Atlas** ** Time, 2552**

The Bridge of the Dominion was no longer filled with idle chatter or muttering, all Winter could see was focus and professionalism. Even when outright searching for flaws in their actions, she came up empty, although that could also be attributed to her lack of experience in the Navy. She had always been a soldier on the ground, sword in hand as she led forces into battle, not a spectator on the Bridge of a warship.

_It's fascinating seeing a battle from this angle, especially given who's doing the fighting. _Winter thought, noting how the faint report of the Dominion's point defense guns was audible even from the Bridge.

The view out the front windows was rather lackluster, as Commander Richard had ordered the whole ship to remain in the clouds as it moved into position to support some of the Marines on the ground. Despite their serious crimes, Winter found herself somewhat sympathetic towards the Security Forces who would be faced with the behemoth, they would probably surrender at the mere sight of the vessel.

_I would worry about the fear attracting Grimm, but we've already done that._ Winter thought.

The holotable on the bridge offered a unique perspective on the battle, a representation of the Dominion was surrounded by tiny red dots, which represented the Grimm. Every time one of the dots ventured too close to the Dominion, one of the guns fired, and a split-second later, the dot vanished.

"Lieutenant Gage, order batteries Delta through Foxtrot to switch to salvo fire." Richard ordered, keeping his focus strictly on the battle.

"Aye Sir." The Dominion's weapons officer reported, he'd come across as a bit shaky to Winter, but he seemed to perform his duties serviceably and professionally as he relayed the order. Moments later, the sporadic reports of gunfire from the ship's underside began to organize themselves into volleys.

"The bulk of the Grimm will stay back once they recognize the danger your ship poses. They're not the smartest, but they do possess a degree of self-preservation." Winter interjected, noting a pause in the gunfire.

Richard hummed with deep thought. "So they're probing us, seeing what we're capable of before they make a decision."

"More like, seeking the path of least resistance." Winter added. "It's less intelligence and more practicality. As long as your guns can keep firing, they shouldn't pose a serious threat."

Bradford replied, as one of the other Bridge officers waved Richard over. "The Dominion won't need to refuel for decades, so power isn't a concern, and we've certainly got a surplus of ammo, the Grimm are the least of our worries."

Winter raised an eyebrow. "What exactly are you worried about? Does it have anything to do with the soldiers you tossed out of the ship in low orbit?"

Bradford waved his hand. "You're about two-hundred years late to being worried about that, drop pods are statistically safer than dropships. Although, by the sounds of things from Point Guderian, the SDC sure weren't expecting it."

"Forgive me if that seems quite reasonable, we don't throw our soldiers out of spaceships to deliver them to the battlefield around here." Winter said, making her unease evident. "Regardless, what is it that has you worried?"

"Our strike craft." Bradford simply replied, pressing a series of buttons on the holotable to bring up an additional dozen or so blue dots, which danced around the Dominion, occasionally attacking the Grimm and retreating to avoid being overwhelmed. "The Grimm have formed this sort of bubble around us. Our attack craft will have to fight their way through."

Winter was somewhat surprised "Can your weapons not shoot that far? Atlas's lasers could certainly hit them."

"They can, but that's not the issue. The point-defense system is made up of coilguns, just like the main cannon. The power that charges them up generates a lot of heat, and in the atmosphere our rate of fire is going to have to be lowered in order to keep the barrels safely cooled." Bradford explained. "We could fire them at low power, but we would lose most of the impact, it would be a waste of ammo."

Winter paused for a moment. "Maybe not... consider this. Sergeant Meadows said that you were surprised by the density of the Grimm, correct?"

"That's correct, our weapons commonly over-penetrate the enemy." Bradford confirmed.

"So even if you cut the projectile's speed down, it's likely to still cause considerable damage, especially given the size of the cannons in question." Winter proposed.

"...I think I see what you're getting at." Bradford said, before turning to the Weapons Station. "Lieutenant Gage, order battery Delta to fire at half power, let's see if we can extend our rate of fire a bit."

"Aye Sir." He reported, before relaying the order.

At first, Winter didn't notice any differences in the holographic display of the battle. Bradford however, did seem to notice something.

"I'll be damned..." he muttered. "Have a look off the port side, your strategy is working."

On a closer examination, several of the Grimm contacts that were further away were starting to vanish, coupled by a noticeable increase in the gunfire of the ship's weapons.

"Lieutenant Gage, order all batteries to half power. Tell the Gun Captains to fire at will!" Bradford ordered, before turning to Winter. "That was some good thinking on your part, thank you."

Winter quietly nodded, having deeply mixed feelings as she watched as the Grimm contacts began to disappear by the dozen. "I'm just doing my job, Lieutenant."

**Point Guderian, Meadows's Crash Site.**

**October 9th, 0718 Atlas Time, 2552**

It wasn't hard to pick out which bunker the Helljumper had crashed into. Chunks of concrete and rebar had been blasted out of the structure with the same violent force that had splattered its previous inhabitants into a slurry of viscera on the floor. By the time Jorge arrived there, several of the ODSTs had already established a strongpoint.

"Good to see you, Lieutenant!" Fairfire shouted as he approached. "Haven't seen Ben yet, but everyone else is here... well, except Meadows."

"What's the matter, isn't he still in his pod?" Jorge asked, as he climbed up into the defensive structure. It had originally been a slightly elevated half-circle bunker, but Meadows had plowed a hole through the back of it, slightly lessening its usefulness.

"Well yeah, but... just look." Fairfire awkwardly said, leading him to see what had happened to the Sergeant.

Getting stuck in your pod was a famously feared fate by any sane ODST. There were a million things that could go wrong on landing, and Meadows had experienced several of them at once. His pod was embedded face-down in the concrete floor, almost completely submerged.

"Did he land like that?" Jorge asked, wondering how the man had survived at all.

"No, actually, he's kind of... sinking, just really slowly." Fairfire explained, and Jorge quickly noted why. The concrete that made up the floor of the bunker was still wet, indicating it had been poured recently. "I don't know if you have a plan to get him out, but-"

"Yeah, hold this for me, would ya?" Jorge said, handing Etilka over to Fairfire, which seemed to offer a degree of burden even to the ODST.

With his hands freed, he dug his feet into the more solid elements of the floor and grabbed onto one of the edges of the pod. With a grunt of exertion and a considerable degree of effort, he began to lift the drop pod out of its tomb.

"There's no way he's actually gonna... Oh." Yu commented, silencing herself as the pod suddenly jolted.

"Hey, whatever you guys are doing, keep doing it, it's working!" Meadows added on TEAMCOM.

Taking a moment to steady himself again and lifting with his legs, he gave another harsh pull, causing the pod to shift again, more harshly this time. Once more he lifted, and the pod shifted again, coming to a relative halt even as he released it. He had lifted it around thirty centimeters out of the concrete, and with one final motion, he rotated the pod so that part of the door was facing upwards. Fairfire and Yu joined in afterwards, and they managed to flip the pod around so that the door faced up towards freedom. Although the pod still remained in its ditch, it was now at an angle that Jorge could rip the door off of its seals and pull the beleaguered Helljumper from his coffin.

"Jesus Christ." Yu commented, with a mix of fear and admiration at Jorge's accomplishment.

Jorge retrieved his weapon from a stunned Fairfire, before turning to Meadows. "You alright?"

"Yeah, thanks." Meadows said, reaching down once more into his pod to pull his rifle free. "I stuffed everything else in my rucksack, I'm good to go if you all are."

"Not quite yet, Ben's still not here." Fairfire replied.

Jorge was somewhat surprised, had he and Curie gotten sidetracked? That seemed unlikely, any Spartan worth his armor would stick to the mission first, which left him only without an answer.

He patched a line through to Ben on his TEAMCOM. "Sergeant, what's your status?"

There was a noticeable delay in his response. "I've engaged an enemy Specialist by the Barracks Complex, a Sniper. I can't safely disengage, we may be late to the rendezvous."

"Stay put, we'll come to-" Jorge began, before one of the ODSTs let off a long burst of gunfire.

"We've got company!" Fairfire added, grabbing a position behind better cover.

Jorge turned back towards the Barracks Complex and spotted several enemy soldiers approaching their bunker, some out of cover and some who had already acquired good firing positions. He turned his own weapon to face the new targets, and let off a long burst of suppressive fire that stopped their advance.

"Grimm, coming in from the rear!" Meadows called out, taking an opportunistic shot at a smaller Beowolf, decapitating it with a three-round burst from his battle rifle.

Jorge frowned with resignation, advancing would be impossible like this. "Disregard my last, Sergeant. Eliminate the Specialist and proceed with the mission, we'll link up with you when possible."

"Yes Sir." Ben replied, a hint of exertion in his voice as Jorge ended the transmission.

Jorge gave his HUD a quick inspection, confirming his weapon had plenty of ammo for the coming battle. The rest of the ODST's began to open fire, which the SDC forces returned in full. Bullets and blasts of energy impacted all around him, with a stray bullet ricocheting into his shoulder plate, which barely even touched his energy shields.

"Good thing I brought slugs." Fairfire muttered with a hint of displeasure, unloading and reloading her shotgun to counter the opponent's range.

Jorge used some of the damaged fortifications to his advantage, positioning Etilka to rest on a barrier as a means of helping with the recoil. It seemed that the heavy machine gun's powerful rounds offered a suppressive effect even on the confident, shielded humans that he now faced. More importantly, they could penetrate most of the shields with only a short burst of gunfire, provided he could hit his targets.

Jorge elected to focus his efforts on the human targets, figuring that his suppressive capabilities were not matched by any of the ODSTs weaponry. But the enemy quickly dug into small ditches and whatever hardcover they could find, creating a serious problem. The ammunition he had loaded was intended to wear down shields and kill soft targets, not penetrate concrete barriers. Moreover, Etilka lacked the precision necessary to hit small exposed limbs and heads, meaning the enemy was starting to return fire.

_Really wish our marksman wasn't in Sickbay right now._ Jorge thought, recognizing a solution would be needed. "Corporal, put a rocket through that structure!"

Jorge marked the offending building with a HUD indicator, a small concrete shack offering cover to a small group of enemies. Yu shouldered her rocket launcher, positioning carefully to ensure the potentially-lethal backblast would be launched out of one of the bunker's windows.

"Backblast clear?!" Yu shouted, following the protocol regardless of what she knew, safety was a high-priority when operating a SPNKR.

"Clear!" Fairfire confirmed, firing another spray of flechettes towards the enemy to keep them occupied.

"Firing!" Yu shouted, with an unmistakable hint of excitement.

A lance of smoke and fire erupted from the end of Yu's launcher, accompanied by a deafening blast of sound that caused Jorge's ears to ring momentarily, even in Mjolnir. The rocket crashed into the shed and blew it away in a spray of shrapnel, fire, and heat-fueled pressure. All of the enemies taking shelter behind the building were flung away, most of them in pieces.

"Excellent shot, Corporal." Jorge noted, Yu didn't respond as she drew her Silenced SMG again.

"I need some help over here!" Meadows shouted, a sense of urgency in his voice as he began to fire more rapidly.

Jorge grabbed his gun and made several long steps over to join Meadows, immediately seeing the source of his concern. The Grimm were quickly becoming more numerous, with dozens approaching from outside the perimeter. Occasionally, some of them would randomly explode, courtesy of the SDC's landmines. In the distance, Jorge could make out the silhouette of a massive creature in the rear, the same black shade as the rest of the Grimm.

_Another elephant._ Jorge realized. He'd killed several of them in the deserts of Menagerie, and he had learned their weaknesses. "Focus on the little ones, kill anything that gets close!"

"Sir yes Sir!" Meadows responded, as did the other ODSTs who were focused on the Grimm.

Jorge positioned Etilka again, and purposefully targeted any of the Grimm with an abundance of bone armor. He had learned earlier that their armor was valuable for bouncing projectiles, but vulnerable to explosive rounds and particularly susceptible to shaped charges. Where the ODSTs might have trouble killing something heavily armored, like a Boarbatusk, his powerful ammunition coupled with the high-caliber could kill it with little effort.

He worked his way outwards, starting with those Grimm that were closest. Anytime a flying Grimm showed up, he would momentarily adjust his fire to cut it out of the sky, before returning to his work on the ground. The Grimm had the diversity and versatility of the Covenant, but very little of the intelligence. Their animalistic appearance coincided with their appearances, as their behavior tended to mirror the animal they made a mockery of.

"Brace!" Fairfire suddenly shouted.

Jorge knew better than to hesitate, even if he couldn't see the threat, it was best to trust his teammate's judgement. What sounded like dozens of heavy projectiles collided with the bunker, causing it to shake under the extreme forces. One of them must have struck Jorge directly, as a substantial bite of his shields were torn away as a large impact knocked him to the floor. It lasted only a second, and he could hear some of the ODSTs groan in pain.

"Get yourselves up!" Jorge shouted, resecuring his hold on his weapon as he examined what had happened.

Dozens of giant black feathers had been embedded in practically every available space of the bunker, like dozens of black javelins. Jorge spotted a shadow of something large fly across the floor as he quickly realized what had just attacked.

"Nevermore, big one!" Fairfire called out. "Yu, break out the launcher and kill it!"

"Yes Sir!" She urgently replied.

Jorge noted that the SDC forces had stopped their assault. He looked and saw that they were now firing upwards at the large Grimm as it came around, although he wasn't sure what kind of effect their weapons would have on a bird the size of a Dropship. An ear-splitting screech filled the air as Yu pushed past him, her launcher shouldered.

"Ok, you cocky son of a bitch, my turn." she muttered, before she aimed down the scope of the launcher. "Wait, bastard's doesn't have a thermal signature!"

"Try motion-tracking." Jorge suggested, which she quickly did.

"Alright, clear backblast!" Yu shouted, as soon as the area was confirmed clear, she placed her finger on the trigger. "Firing!"

The missile screamed into the sky, pursuing the Nevermore at several times the speed it was flying, carving a line of smoke through the air as it ruthlessly chased its target. The Nevermore seemed to recognize the threat posed by the missile, as it tried to dodge it at the last minute, but the missile turned faster. The explosion was magnificent, sending chunks of disintegrating bird flying in every direction.

"That's right you ugly bastard!" Yu shouted, accompanied by a hearty cheer from the ODSTs.

Jorge allowed them only a brief moment to celebrate their victory, only because it seemed that the SDC forces were stunned by the young Helljumper's display of force. "We've still got a job to do, grab some cover and kill whatever's left!"

The Mercenaries resumed firing as soon as the ODSTs did, while Jorge used his superior firepower to shred the remaining smaller Grimm. The Goliath would still need a few minutes to approach with its own band of smaller Grimm, which would offer them a moment of rest in between the fights.

With the full force of Onyx focused on the Mercenaries, it didn't take long for them to be pushed back, inflicting heavy casualties as the enemy routed to their Barracks and the Mine proper.

"Cease fire!" Jorge ordered as the last enemies left their line of sight. "Reload and run an equipment check, we've got a brief moment so let's use it!"

"Anyone hit?!" Fairfire asked. "I can't see Kilo on my Status monitor, anyone see him?"

"He's KIA." Yu sadly interjected. "He got hit with a bunch of the feathers... tore him apart."

"You check the body?" Fairfire quietly asked, Jorge noted her response was delayed.

"I was kind of busy!" Yu snapped. "You want to go look for a pulse, be my guest!"

"Stow the bellyaching Marine!" Jorge interjected, noticing how the conversation was going. "We can mourn later, right now, the mission takes priority."

Yu gave a curt nod, joined by Fairfire, who gave a slightly more somber nod.

"Now, get yourselves set, we've still got contacts coming." Jorge said, looking at the still-approaching Grimm.

**Point Guderian, Cafeteria**

**October 9th, 1222 Menagerie Time, 2552**

Chasing the Sniper had led Ben back to where he started, the cafeteria of the Barracks. Curie had predicted that he was using it as a place to hide, ready to shoot at Ben from the balcony at a moment's notice. He'd taken the long way back around, hoping that he would be able to catch him off guard by attacking from an unexpected angle.

He had kicked the door down trying to get the drop on him, and only succeeded in startling the squad of SDC soldiers who had taken shelter there. Thankfully, there was plenty of cover, lending him the capability to feasibly fight all of them at once.

"Take cover, right side!" Curie called out, Ben quickly took her advice and dodged the Sniper's round by millimeters. Dozens of less impactful bullets and blasts of energy embedded themselves in the concrete support column he was sheltered behind. He returned fire, but it was to minimal effect due to how badly he was being suppressed.

"Source?" Ben asked. He unholstered his plasma pistol and began to overcharge it offhandedly, holding his rifle with his other.

"Salad bar, aim for the fire escape." Curie quickly answered. Ben poked out of cover and confirmed that Curie had once again been correct as he let the bolt of plasma fly. The Sniper only barely managed to slam the door in-between him and the deadly bolt, the plasma melted through the door, but it's tracking capabilities had been lost and it was rendered moot. "I'll track him with the security cameras, deal with the others."

"Warn me if he's about to take a shot from outside." Ben replied, noting the few windows dotted around the cafeteria. He holstered the plasma pistol and let it cool, drawing a fragmentation grenade in its place.

The squad of mercenaries seemed to have some competent training, as they had deliberately spaced themselves out to avoid a grenade being able to hit them all. Forced to pick between two clusters of enemies, he decided the most ideal target for the grenade was the kitchen, which he could access via the same windows that the enemy was using to shoot him from. Once the grenade was thrown, he used his rifle to cover the exits.

The grenade exploded in a cacophony only amplified by the small enclosed space it detonated in. He was unable to see what was happening inside, but he must have accidentally ignited a natural gas line, as there was visibly far more fire than there should have been. One of the soldiers managed to escape the firestorm, only to be cut down by a hail of gunfire from Ben's rifle.

He continued to trade fire with the enemy, using his rifle as the Plasma Pistol could only handle a handful of overcharged shots, which he intended to save for the Specialist. Ammo still wasn't a major concern, but he was burning through the magazines on his magnetic holsters at an alarming rate, and reloading with the magazines in his rucksack would take more time.

"Ben, we have a problem. I've lost access to the Enemy systems, I can't track the Sniper." Curie said, more confusion in her voice than worry.

"Did they lock you out of the system?" Ben asked, unsure exactly how they could have done such a thing. He didn't let talking interrupt his fighting as he eroded the aura of another mercenary, before putting one final round in his head to keep him down.

"No, they haven't, it's as if we're being jammed... wait..." Curie said, before coming to the same realization that she had caused Ben to have. "Something big is on the motion tracker, somewhere above us."

The Mercenaries, however, had no warning of what was coming, as they were all focused on Ben. They remained ignorant even as when the giant, radio-blocking Grimm crept it's way into the cafeteria, using the hole offered by Ben's drop pod. Their first true warning was when it pounced on their squad leader and messily devoured him in two bites, his already-damaged Aura no match for the creature's powerful jaws.

Immediately, the other soldiers turned their attention to the beast in a complete panic. With their focus divided, Ben was left with a golden opportunity to kill them all with ease. But despite every bit of his training telling him to shoot the enemy in the back and finish off the lizard later... it felt wrong, somehow.

_Every threat has to be eliminated... but the Lizard can die first._ Ben thought, pausing to reload and replace his magazines while he had the chance, before swapping to his plasma pistol and readying an overcharged shot.

"I do not believe that is going to kill it." Curie warned.

"No, but I'm hoping it'll burn a hole in the armor." Ben replied, unleashing the bolt of superheated plasma, aimed squarely at the Grimm's giant head. The shot was made easier as the Grimm was also distracted, both by the SDC soldiers and the support columns that stood in its way.

Immediately after impacting, the plasma fused itself to the Grimm's armored head and began burning its way through the bone plating. The Lizard tried in vain to scrape and shake the blob of molten matter from it's head, but it was useless, the plasma just kept burning. Once the bone layer was melted, the plasma began to immolate the Grimm's flesh, causing it to panic and screech incoherently as it ran around the cafeteria, before it unceremoniously dropped dead. Curie said something in French that Ben didn't understand, but the general sense of disgust and shock was conveyed fairly well.

_Yeah, plasma's an ugly way to go, especially if your head is made of ceramic armor._ Ben thought. The remaining mercenaries were left stunned and disturbed as they watched the beast dissolve into thin air, giving Ben an idea.

Ensuring that his shields were fully charged, he took a step out of cover and charged another bolt of plasma, aiming it squarely at the Mercenaries. Every ounce of their training and discipline had evaporated along with the Grimm, and all of them turned to face the armored warrior they had been fighting. Ben turned on the volume-amplifier in his helmet's microphone, and took a deep breath.

"Drop your weapons, now!" Ben shouted, ready to immolate any of them if they decided to refuse his offer.

They thought about it for only a moment, before one of them threw their pulse laser rifle to the ground, who was quickly joined by the other three. All of them raised their hands and walked out of cover.

"Good decision." Ben said, nullifying the charged bolt and reholstering the plasma pistol, returning back to the assault rifle he was far more comfortable using.

As he disarmed the four surviving Mercenaries and handcuffed them with some of his microfilament bindings, he switched off his microphone to speak to Curie privately. "Curie, can you get a bead on that Sniper now that the Lizard is dead?"

"I have access to the systems, although I do not have a visual on the Specialist. Stored footage from a minute and twenty seconds ago shows him entering the mine itself." Curie answered.

"Keep your eyes open, he might try to sneak back out and catch us off guard." Ben replied, well aware that a loose Sniper was a threat no matter where they decided to hole up.

It didn't take long to bind all of his new prisoners, and disposing of their weapons was made all the easier by the raging inferno in the kitchen. The mercenaries offered nothing in the way of resistance, one of them was even whimpering slightly, which disturbed Ben a little more than he cared to admit.

"Curie, can you get us a line to the Lieutenant?" Ben asked, keeping his eyes on the surrendered soldiers, even if they seemed compliant, caution was always necessary.

"Certainly, one moment." Curie responded. "There, encrypted and stable."

"Onyx Actual, this is Ben. We've lost contact with the Specialist, he retreated into the mine." Ben reported.

The response was delayed only momentarily, in the distance, the ambient gunfire intensified. "Understood, what's your current status?"

"Just finished up with a squad of mercenaries, and one of the radio-intercepting Grimm, I managed to take four prisoners." Ben stated.

"Good, you'll have to come to us, we're wrapping up with the Grimm now." Jorge replied. "We're still at the rendezvous point, make it fast would ya?"

"Yes Sir." Ben said, before cutting the transmission and turning to the prisoners. "On your feet, we're moving out."

**Schnee Manor**

**October 9th, 0725 Atlas Time, 2552**

Being urgently awoken by a member of his personal security team was not how Jacques had intended to start the day. Learning that the UNSC had already begun their anticipated attack was even worse. He quickly joined some of his senior staff in the impromptu command center that had been assembled in his basement.

"It's an absolute bloodbath, we're in danger of losing all three of the Whollapeg mines." One of the technicians reported, speaking to one of the officer's Jacques had placed in charge of his airfleet.

Another officer walked in, closing his scroll with a shaking hand. "I just got a call from the executive manager at the Selfoss Strip Mine, he says the enemy fell out of the sky in small pods and annihilated any sort of defense, I've gotten nothing from Major Garrett."

"Two fast-movers just shot down an entire supply shipment from Svalbard, I'm trying to get more information now..." Another technician reported, only adding to the chaotic nature.

_Some professionals these lot turned out to be._ Jacques grumpily thought, before clearing his throat and turning to one of the guards.

"Private, would you kindly fire a round into the ceiling? I need everyone's attention." Jacques asked, keeping his demeanor perfectly neutral.

The guard complied, and fired a single gunshot into the ceiling. Immediately, everyone went silent, before turning to face Jacques.

"Thank you, private." Jacques said, only receiving a silent nod. Jacques picked one of the officers out, looking for the least panicked one. "You, tell me what's going on, cut straight to it."

"It's a massive assault Sir, at least six of our mines have been assaulted so far-" The officer reported.

"Make that seven Sir, I just got a report from the mine at Pavelgrad, their under attack by the alien starship!" One of the technicians interjected, although given what he had to say, Jacques was willing to let it slide.

"The alien mothership?! They've brought it down to the ground?" Jacques asked, not believing his luck.

"Yes Sir, reports say it's colossal, and it matches the descriptions of our intelligence. Pavelgrad... is requesting permission to surrender, Sir." The technician stated.

Jacques' response was immediate. "Absolutely not, tell them to stand their ground, we will be sending support!"

"Affirmative Sir!" The technician replied, relaying the message.

"What airships should we send, Sir?" The naval officer asked, thankfully understanding Jacques' plan.

"We may never get another chance like this, send everything you have, we may have just found a way to end this war!" Jacques replied.

The Officer immediately began to carry out his orders, as the rest of the Command Center began to resume their tasks. Privately, Jacques had his concerns about his plan. If the aliens were confident enough to bring their spaceship into a position where it could be attacked, they must have had good reason.

_No matter, we have to fight. Even if the odds are stacked against us, we can't give in._ Jacques thought, although his doubts remained prevalent.

**Author's notes: I'm gonna do something I haven't done in a little while and respond to a guest review. I haven't included all of it, as it's quite long (but very well structured and makes some excellent points, filter reviews by chapter 31 (Not on AO3) if you wish to read it) and these notes already pad the chapters more than I like, you'll notice many of the previous chapters AN's are gone as a result.**

**But this guest raised their concerns over the UNSC being able to activate their auras. For the boring loreless answer, it just makes the story (and especially the fights) more interesting. If anyone but a Spartan dropped with one well-placed bullet, but anyone that they fought against had energy shields (along with the other numerable benefits of aura), it doesn't just even the odds, it tips them so dramatically in favor of the aura-wielder that ground combat for non-spartans is suicide.**

**That being said, I still find Spartans who can also use a fully-powered aura to be disinteresting, as they just become do-everything characters. Readers of the original Men From Onyx will remember that Ben's Aura (and more subtly, his Semblance) was disproportionately affected by his neural augmentations, leaving it as effectively a non-factor in battle. Jorge may not have those particular augmentations, but his aura was similarly meaningless.**

**But that's all boring as hell, you want to hear the science behind it, the reasoning, and I'm nothing if not a sucker for lore, so let me share my reasoning. Simply put, the genetic differences between the UNSC humans and Remnant humans are negligible and unimportant, as Aura's relationship with science (particularly genetics) has been... questionable. Pyrrha outright states that Aura is the manifestation of one's soul, and I mean, come on, that just says it all.**

**So that raises the question, if it's not related to genes (or really any sort of science), what the hell is it? Well, until someone rips the physical Aura out of another person in RWBY with their bare hands, I'm gonna have to guess it's a spiritual thing. Remnant is obviously no stranger to unusual and non-newtonian/euclidean occurrences, so people having souls doesn't really seem like that much of a stretch to me (think of the cafeteria fight in volume 2, that shows off what kind of physics Remnant is dealing with) . And if the UNSC humans couldn't use Aura, that would imply they don't have souls, which I'm just gonna outright refuse, plus there's plenty of lines in the Forerunner trilogy of novels (which I rarely source from, admittedly) that says they do.**

_ **So how do you pull it out of someone with a machine? How do you measure it scientifically?** _

**Speculation Time: There's no way in hell that Ozpin had nothing to do with the Aura-transferring machine, I'm just saying. It even did that same magical glow that we see him do in the volume six flashback. As for measuring it, well, if a weapon can act as a current for aura, why not a remotely operated machine? Bear in mind, we've never seen an Aura-sensor be used on a consenting individual, it is entirely likely that without someone's wishes, you cannot measure their Aura.**

_ **So why didn't the UNSC discover it?** _

**Because they couldn't use Aura in normal space or Slipspace. Remnant's galaxy is located in neither of those locations, and it's unique cosmic circumstances (some of which I plan on exploring in the future) permit the activation of one's Soul as a defensive and offensive weapon.**

**I hope you found this answer at least somewhat satisfying, unnamed guest. And I am very glad to hear that you are enjoying the story. I hope my own response came off as politely as I intended.**


	33. Chapter 33

**Point Guderian, AKA Selfoss Strip Mine**

**October 9th, 073** **2 Atlas Time, 2552**

It seemed that the rest of Onyx Team had been quite busy. Ben marched his prisoners past at least a dozen corpses on the way to the rendezvous. Not all of them were killed by bullets, as it seemed that the Grimm had also mangled their way through a fair number of them. The rest of the enemy's defenses were in a similar state of ruin, with most of the robots clearly being disabled without even having switched on. Had they been active, it wasn't much of a stretch to think that the battle would have been considerably bloodier, especially as the enemy might have been able to stabilize a frontline.

"I see that my viruses worked well." Curie commented. "Although, it seems a great deal of the drones failed to self-destruct."

"There will be plenty of time for a post-mission analysis, Curie." Ben pointed out, deliberately not speaking into his microphone. "Let's try to stay focused."

"You make an excellent point." Curie replied.

The rest of Onyx Team had taken control of one of the bunkers, which had been utterly ravaged by the battle. There was a giant gap in the wall and the ceiling where Meadows had landed. Bullet holes and the scorch marks of lasers dotted the out surface of the structure.

"Good work Sergeant." Fairfire noted as she walked over to double-check their bindings. "By my count, this is four more prisoners than we took."

"I'm pretty sure you drove them into me, they were recovering from something." Ben offered, examining the carnage around him. "Decent bit of resistance, huh?"

"Yeah, more human defenders than we were expecting, but less Grimm." Jorge noted. "On that note, don't get too comfortable, the Grimm are still coming. Looks like they've formed up into a bigger group, maybe they have some intelligence after all."

"Can we see them from here?" Ben asked, before Jorge led him around to the side of the bunker that faced outwards. "Ah, nevermind."

The Grimm were around a kilometer away, but Curie magnified his vision so that he could see the enemy in better detail. Dozens of smaller Grimm had assembled around a single, larger kind, as if it was commanding them to concentrate around it. The largest Grimm resembled some demented malformity of a woolly mammoth, with gigantic tusks that would almost certainly deliver a devastating blow.

"How are we on rockets?" Jorge asked, turning back to Yu.

"Two left, the spares Kilo was carrying got ripped apart... along with him." Yu commented, shifting the launcher that she had slung over her shoulder with obvious discomfort. "But even the SPNKR is going to have trouble with that thing, it's built like a Scarab. Maybe if I can hit the joints or the neck, but that's a stretch with how much it's moving."

"Yeah, the Sparrowhawks were supposed to cover us, but they're getting caught up with some unexpected air contacts. More mercenaries, by the sounds of it." Jorge added. "But that doesn't matter, we need to find a way to kill that thing, without air support."

"Give me a moment, I will survey our surroundings for additional options." Curie interjected. A few seconds later, she posted a camera-feed onto Ben's HUD, displaying some kind of large laser turret. "There, Laser Battery Two is fixable, if you can get me there, I can see about bringing it back online. It should have the firepower to kill the Megoliath."

"Ben, go handle that, we'll move up to the Barracks Complex, try to find some better cover." Jorge ordered. "Meadows, go along with him."

"Yes Sir!" Meadows sounded off, standing up from the firing position he was in and jogging over.

"We'll get it done." Ben added.

They took a path that took them throughout the defensive line as they made their way to the turret. Even though most of the immediate threats on the surface had been eliminated, they were still in a very dangerous environment, and caution wasn't optional. The ruined trenches and bunkers offered meaningful cover in an otherwise very exposed position.

"Curie, how did you kill the turret?" Meadows asked, seemingly prompted by spotting another one of the disabled guns. This one was quite clearly out of order, as evidenced by the steady stream of flames emanating from its control suite.

"Battery Two was eliminated by a total software purge, one of the roaming Viruses I deployed. In order to bring it online, we'll need to reset the power and operate the gun manually." Curie answered. "Unfortunately, it seems that the rotation mechanism was reliant on that software, so the barrel will have to be adjusted manually."

"Wait, like, one of those things?" Meadows asked doubtfully, pointing to the flaming turret. "Those things gotta weigh at least a few tonnes! How the hell-"

"There is an analog backup system to rotate the turret." Curie answered before he could finish. "One of you will fire the weapon while the other operates the mechanism."

"I can handle that. Meadows, you'll take the shot." Ben offered.

"Fine by me." Meadows replied.

They only encountered a handful of isolated, smaller Grimm along the way. A quick burst of gunfire seemed capable of eliminating most of them, but some of them, such as the Boarbatusks, seemed more resilient, even to headshots.

"Curie, where's the vital organs in those things?" Ben asked, after expending more ammo than he would have liked on one of the offending creatures.

"The Boarbatusk's brain is located just below the throat, aim there." Curie advised.

"How's that for a choking hazard?" Meadows taunted as he put a three-round burst through the final creatures, exploiting the weak point. "Right, sorry, that was terrible."

"Crack all the jokes you want, just keep moving, and keep your focus on the mission." Ben replied.

_I'd rather have a jokester who can aim watching my back than a professional soldier who can't._ Ben thought.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 9th, 0737 Atlas Time, 2552**

It turned out that running away was an instinct built into Grimm. Even with what Winter had described as a cataclysmically large swarm, they quickly learned that the Dominion was off-limits, and the stragglers were effortlessly picked apart. However, as the ship circled high above its target, more obstacles were presenting themselves.

"New contacts on Long-Range Radar! Twelve Bogies, constant bearing, decreasing range!" Lieutenant Chen called out. "They're flying formation, they've got to be human."

Richard looked to the holotable. A dozen neutral-tagged contracts were now approaching the Dominion's starboard side at a respectable pace. With the Grimm cleared away, there was nothing in their way except the Dominion's own Combat Air Patrol.

"We'll need a visual, can't just go blindly shooting them." Richard said. "Lieutenant Gage, do any of our Clarions have a view on those bogies?"

"Momentarily Sir, Clarion Two, patching the feed over to you now." Gage replied, fear no longer evident in his voice.

_I would be surprised if his confidence recovered after only a single battle with the Grimm, maybe he's just gotten better at hiding his doubts? Chen's looking a bit better too, maybe they just needed a job they can feasibly accomplish._ Richard thought, momentarily becoming distracted by his concerns, before shaking his head back into the present.

"Lieutenant Chen, sharpen up that Radar signature if you can, and see if we can read their IFFs." Richard ordered, but most of his attention was focused on the video feed now playing on one of the displays built into the holotable.

"I've adjusted the Drone's course, you should have a visual momentarily." Gage interjected.

The Clarion Spy Drone was designed with Space Combat in mind, but it still performed capably within the atmosphere of most planets. It's camera systems proved valuable for effectively any engagement, and could offer a direct visual feed whenever the host ship's cameras could not.

Richard had intentionally kept the Dominion in Atlas's cloud cover, well aware of the faults of Atlesian Radar systems at such ranges, which made her own camera systems somewhat useless. The video feed the Spy Drone offered confirmed that the attackers were indeed human aircraft, around the size of a strike fighter.

_Well, let's see who you belong to._ Richard thought. "Specialist Schnee, may I have your eyes for a moment?"

Winter obliged, taking a look at the video feed herself. "These are our incoming targets, do you recognize them?"

She answered immediately. "Gunships, Atlesian make and model, probably under Military control, although the SDC having some isn't necessarily out of the question. This model is armed with guided missiles, capable of targeting both air and ground targets."

Richard immediately turned to Ensign Gillespie. "Ensign, open a channel to them."

After only a scant few seconds, Gillespie shook his head. "They aren't responding, Sir."

_They're flying into a live combat scenario, we already know who they belong to, shoot them down._ Richard's gut seemed to tell him, but he ignored it. "Lieutenant Chen, what do the IFFs read?"

"Schnee Dust Company... Freighters, that's probably a translation bug." She answered.

"It almost certainly is, the Schnee Dust Company operates its own fleet of dedicated freighters, and these certainly aren't them." Winter added.

"Hostile Combatants then. Order Voodoo Lead to intercept and destroy." Richard ordered, which Gillespie quickly relayed.

"Voodoo copies all, moving to intercept." The Squad Leader reported, before Richard placed the radio back into the table. The four contacts broke off their patrol around the Dominion and formed up to intercept.

"Four fighters against a dozen?" Winter asked doubtfully.

"The Sabres are the best we have, even back home. And those four out there are specifically equipped for dogfighting, so they're certainly well prepared." Bradford explained. "I once watched a single Sabre pilot tear apart an entire squadron of Innie fighters without breaking a sweat... that was the first time I ever worked with a Spartan actually, now that I think about it."

"Stay focused Lieutenant. I need a report from Clark's team, and an update of what we need to be shooting at one the ground. We're hovering up here for a reason, after all." Richard stated, to which Bradford gave a brief nod and picked up one of the radios. "Ensign Williams, increase our passive burn to thirty-four percent, we may need the speed."

"Aye Sir." The helmsman reported.

There was a lot to focus on, but Richard was confident he had addressed all of it, leaving him free to observe the upcoming fighter engagement.

_We haven't gotten a recent report from Onyx Team, but I'm not terribly worried about them._ Richard thought, well aware of the impact that two Spartans would have on any engagement.

"What in the world are they doing?" Winter asked, noting how the Sabres seemed to deliberately be flying around the targets.

"They're trying to get behind them, down here in the atmosphere, that's very important. In space, you can turn on a dime, but the playing fields are a bit different down here." Richard answered, before pointing to one of the indicators that was next to the enemy contacts. "And this marker means that the Sabres are using Electronic Countermeasures to confuse the enemy Radar, I'm sure Lieutenant Keegan has thought this through."

"Is he the flight leader?" Winter asked.

"She is, yes." Richard subtly corrected, noting that the Sabres were now coming about and returning to formation, now behind the enemy bombers. "And now, moment of truth."

In unison, the Sabre's launched missiles. It seemed that Keegan had planned the spread well, as every single target had been locked onto by at least one of the Medusa missiles. The enemy were caught totally off guard, and their squad leader must've ordered them to scatter, as their formation was rapidly abandoned.

Richard's earpiece quickly buzzed shortly after the first missile made contact, likely a comms malfunction. Considering that the target didn't vanish, it wasn't hard to guess who was contacting him, and what had happened. "Your signal is garbled, purge comms and repeat."

The follow up was immediate. "Voodoo One to Dominion Actual. Targets are energy shielded, please advise." Keegan stated, not a hint of panic in her voice.

_Energy shields, figures, they use shields for everything._ Richard thought, deeply annoyed. "Switch to your cannons and erode the shields, it shouldn't be any different than a Seraph, out."

"I take it that a Seraph is a... Covenant fighter?" Winter asked.

"Covenant fighters are typically better than ours, and they also employ energy shields. Thankfully, so do the Sabres." Richard explained. "The Sabre is designed expressly to strip away a fighter's shields with its autocannons, before using the missiles to deliver a knockout punch."

Winter nodded. "They'll need to close the range with the enemy in order to do that."

"The Sabre might not have been designed to fly in atmosphere all that well, but don't underestimate the pilots." Richard said, noting how the first two enemy contacts had disappeared before they had even gotten to fire a shot, with one of the enemies returning volleys of missiles failing to penetrate the Sabre's shields.

**Point Guderian, AKA Selfoss Strip Mine**

**October 9th, 0738 Atlas Time, 2552**

The defensive laser cannon wasn't too structurally dissimilar from an old flak gun, like those employed in the first global conflicts on Earth. The only major difference was that this weapon fired a directed energy beam, not artillery shells. The weapon was mounted on a large concrete base, which itself was reinforced by the same metal bracings that apparently made up the construction style of many Atlesian structures.

_Impractical, but certainly impressive._ Ben thought as he looked over the cannon, hearing Meadows give a low whistle.

"Looks much better when it's not torched, doesn't it?" Meadows asked.

"It does have a certain elegance to its appearance, let's see if it works as good as it looks." Ben replied, pulling himself onto the gun platform and walking over to the control seat.

"The Terminal, hold your hand over it." Curie requested, to which Ben obliged.

A steady stream of data passed between the terminal and his gauntlet, before suddenly stopping as the data retreated back into his hand. "No good?"

"I appear to have been a bit overzealous with the viruses, I have completely destroyed the operating system." Curie explained, somewhat embarrassed. "We don't have time to find a workaround, we'll fire the gun manually."

"How do we do that?" Ben asked.

"Head down to ground level, and pull open the maintenance panel." Curie instructed.

Ben obliged, and was joined by Meadows back on the ground level. The maintenance panel was actually just a sheet of metal that was bolted onto a hole in the turret's base, which Ben tore off with the assistance of a conveniently located pry bar.

"Did you actually need that thing?" Meadows asked as Ben climbed in and turned on his helmet lights, revealing the Atlesian circuitry and electronics.

"Probably not, but it's certainly useful." Ben replied, tossing the tool aside. "Now, unless you're secretly an electrician, pull security. If some merc throws a grenade in here, it's bad news for us."

_For a veteran helljumper, he seems to have lost some of his instincts._ Ben noted, inadvertently recognizing some of the faults of his teammate.

"Wilco." Meadows replied, thankfully recognizing the logic in his words. Ben returned his attention to his own duties.

"Curie, I'm a bit out of my element here." Ben stated, somewhat intimidated by the massive pile of electronics.

_Is all of this really easier to put together than a flak gun?_ He thought, noting the complexity of the systems. _A conventional gun would have maybe half the parts of this thing, hopefully the firepower's worth it._

"I'm marking the auxiliary battery, turn that on, and then flip the circuit breaker. That should bring the power online." Curie instructed.

Ben did as she instructed, requiring some extra assistance to work the vaguely familiar components. Everything that the Atlesians built seemed to have been designed with perhaps a bit too much attention given to aesthetics, which made it hard to recognize things that would otherwise have been fairly universal in appearance.

"We should be fully operational." Curie noted once he was done. "We'll only have a few shots however, so we'll need to make them count."

"Understood." Ben replied as he climbed out of the gun's internal mechanisms. "Meadows, head up and man the console, I'll get us adjusted."

Meadows took his position while Ben moved to the lever system that manually rotated the gun, it would be slow, but certainly better than manually pushing the barrel into position. Ben could see the Megoliath was much closer now, and it showed no signs of stopping. The rest of the Grimm around it charged forward, and were met by the rest of Onyx Team unleashing a hail of gunfire onto them from the Barracks Complex.

"Curie, the control console isn't turning on." Meadows urgently said. "And that Mammoth is getting closer!"

"You only need the trigger, and it's reading functional." Curie replied. "Ben, use your rangefinder on the Mammoth."

Ben complied. "Target reads one-eighty-two meters out."

"Adjust azimuth negative forty degrees, elevation by negative ten." Curie instructed. Ben quickly went to work manipulating the gun's mechanism, before Curie ordered him to stop. "Sergeant, fire on my mark."

"Wilco!" Meadows replied, notably more urgently. It seemed that the Mammoth had spotted them now, and decided that the makeshift artillery crew posed a greater threat to its existence. "I think it knows what we're planning!"

"Focus!" Ben snapped. "On your mark, Curie."

There was a moment of immense tension as the giant beast charged them, alleviated only when Curie spoke. "Mark."

The barrel of the gun shifted slightly, before a bright red beam of light emerged from the bore. The beam carved straight through both of the Mammoth's left-side legs, causing it to stumble to the ground as the beam dissipated.

_Huh, so this one's a beam laser, not a pulse laser?_ Ben thought, somewhat confused by the inconsistency of Atlas's weapon systems.

"He's still kicking!" Meadows called out. The Mammoth was still inching towards them, although its body was poorly equipped to crawl.

"Ben, adjust azimuth negative four degrees, elevation by negative twelve." Curie instructed, which he obeyed.

"Done." Ben announced.

"Fire!" She commanded, which Meadows obeyed.

This time, their shot flew into the Grimm's nose, and burned its way through enough of the Grimm's body to kill it. It seemed that it was dissipating a bit faster than the other, smaller Grimm, either way, it was dead.

"Excellent work gentlemen." Curie noted with a hint of pride. "I appreciate your faith in my mathematical capabilities."

"And I appreciate you being here to lend us them." Ben replied. "Any new orders?"

"Not yet... wait, incoming transmission." Curie interrupted herself, before Jorge's voice overtook hers.

"Ben, Meadows, regroup at the Barracks. We're wrapping up the last of the Grimm now, and then we're going into the mine itself, that should be where the objective is." He instructed.

"Wilco, shouldn't take us too long." Ben replied, before Jorge cut the transmission.

Meadows turned to face the Barracks Complex, where a large amount of gunfire was still emanating. "That sounds a lot more intense than 'wrapping up'."

"Well, maybe there's some unexpected issue." Ben said, returning his Assault Rifle to his hands. "Let's go see if we can assist."

**Selfoss Strip Mine**

**October 9th, 0742 Atlas Time, 2552**

Escaping from the armored alien was easier than he had expected, although the abundance of gunfire that he had heard as he fled all but confirmed that the soldiers he had left behind had suffered a bitter fate. He'd retreated into the mines not thinking clearly, more out of an animalistic desire to escape than with any strategic mindset.

_I wonder if they were in on all of this slaving horseshit, or if they were like me, just... mislead._ Garrett thought, well aware that he was not in the best mental state at the moment. _Veteran Huntsman, my ass. I'm nothing but a coward, and a crook._

He hadn't found anyone else while he was underground, although the mine was so large, it was unlikely that he was alone. Any slaves would be held behind the secondary security measures, and any surviving staff would be near the subterranean office complex.

_I wonder if anyone else made it out? They'd regroup at the offices, surely- _Garrett thought, before being thrown out of his thoughts by the echoing sound of a large-scale energy weapon being fired.

Fortunately for him, it was coming from the surface, and presently not a threat to him. He remained far from defenceless, most of his Aura had recovered, and he still had his rifle. Still, a long-barreled sniper rifle in such close quarters wouldn't be very useful.

"Sir!" A voice ahead of him shouted. A single soldier stood watch over the door to the offices, but upon spotting Garrett, he rushed forward and gave a salute. "Are you alright? What the hell's going on up there?!"

"I'm fine, and in case you haven't noticed, the aliens are attacking." Garrett wearily replied, before noticing that the soldier was only a private, and a young one at that. "...What's your name, Private?"

"Private Weber, Sir!" he responded, somewhat shakily.

Garrett narrowed his eyes, he sounded somewhat different from all of the other recruits. "When did you get shipped out here Weber?"

"Um... yesterday... Sir." Weber awkwardly replied. "But I'm ready to fight!"

_Is this really how this kid is going to die, fighting for a bunch of corporate bastards in a hole in the ground..._ Garrett bleakly thought. _Is this how I'm going to die?_

He took a seat on the ground, and rested his back against the wall, closing his eyes in a vain effort just to forget everything that had happened.

"Sir?" Weber asked, obviously concerned.

"I'm good, don't you worry about me." Garrett lied.

"...what should we do?" Weber asked, nervously fiddling with his rifle.

_Fuck, good question._ Garrett thought. "Didn't think that far ahead, give me a moment."

Most of his men were dead, a hostile alien force of unknown size had literally fallen out of the sky, and a horde of Grimm were only making things worse. His employers were a bunch of slave-driving monsters, and his odds of survival looked very slim.

"Hell of a morning, huh?" Garrett casually asked.

"Heh, guess so." Weber replied, but the situation was still weighing on him. "Did we even get orders, sir?"

"Are you kidding? I never would have had a chance to issue them." Garrett replied with an awkward chuckle. "Besides, we're done following orders, we're gonna make our own."

"Oh?" Weber responded, clearly shocked. "You're uh, going AWOL?"

"Aren't you?" Garrett asked. "You saw all of the shit they're doing down here, right?"

"...I mean, I didn't think backing out was really an option, Sir." Weber said. "But if we're deserting... how are we gonna get out of here?"

Garrett thought for a moment, but he quickly realized a traditional escape would be impossible, at least for the young soldier.

"Give me your sidearm." Garrett calmly ordered, only interrupting when Weber moved to take the magazine out. "Keep it loaded."

"Yes Sir." He nervously replied as Garrett shouldered his own rifle, took the ballistic sidearm, and racked the slide.

"Good, now ditch your rifle and get up to the surface. You are to surrender to the first alien son of a bitch that you see, do you understand? That's your best shot out of here." Garrett demanded, pilfering one of Weber's stun grenades as well.

"Yes Sir." Weber shakily replied. "What about you, what are you going to do?"

"I'm going to go find the Executive Manager, make sure he doesn't run." Garrett stated simply. "Do you know where he is?"

"In the central complex, but it's a bloodbath down there, you don't want to-" Weber answered, but Garrett interrupted his warning.

"To hell with what's down there!" Garrett yelled. "Now go, do whatever you have to do to survive... enough people have died here already."

"Yes Sir." Weber replied with a nervous gulp, before running up the way Garrett had come.

_I might be a naive coward, but I'm a coward who took an oath. _Garrett thought, before proceeding through the door that the young soldier had been guarding.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 9th, 0750 Atlas Time, 2552**

As Voodoo Squadron finished off the last of the bombers, the Marines on the ground began to report on the situation there. Point Adolf and Point Frankfurt put up little resistance, as expected, and dozens of freed slaves were being extracted along with the Marines. The two dropship hangars were beginning to suffer from congestion, so Richard authorized the usage of the main underslung hangar to help keep the dropships moving.

"New report from Point Josef, Lieutenant Clark is requesting reinforcements." Ensign Gillespie relayed.

"Rearm Third Platoon as soon as they are aboard and send them to assist." Richard ordered, knowing that the already slightly-exhausted Marines from Point Frankfurt could catch their breath on the transports. However, moving an entire platoon of Marines would take time.

_Perhaps we can get them some help a bit faster._ Richard thought, picking up one of the radios. "Get me direct contact with Onyx Actual."

"You're connected Sir." Gillespie confirmed, after a moment.

"Onyx, this is Dominion Actual, report status." Richard instructed.

"All surface hostiles neutralized, we're regrouping and preparing to enter the mine itself, status green." Jorge answered.

"Affirmative, we're rerouting Excalibur to another target, let us know if you need support, out." Richard said, before turning to Bradford. "XO, get those Sparrowhawks on the right track!"

"Aye Sir." Bradford confirmed.

Winter remained on the Bridge, quietly observing and making the occasional comment. "A ten-man unit took down an entire facility?"

"Everything on the surface." Richard pointed out. "There could be something we're not anticipating lurking underneath."

Chen suddenly interjected. "New Radar contacts, three new signatures, hostile IFFs!"

"Lieutenant Gage, reroute Clarion Two, get us a visual. Lieutenant Chen, sharpen up that signature and put them on the holotable." Richard ordered.

Three Corvette-Sized signatures appeared on the holotable, a little over a hundred kilometers away, but closing towards them at a respectable speed. They were flying in a Vee-Formation, and were at a notably higher altitude than the other airships.

"Hmm, bigger than the other ones, by a quite large margin." Richard quietly noted. "Lieutenant Chen, can I get an estimation of their classification?"

"Their Radar Signature is minimalized, likely by some sort of jamming system." Chen answered. "Their size is fluctuating anywhere from two-fifty to one-fifty meters."

"Those are Atlesian Cruisers, capital ships!" Winter immediately interjected, realization spread across her face. "Commander, these will prove significantly more capable opponents, and they can close that distance very fast. I strongly advise you to consider your options!"

Richard paused, a trio of Atlesian cruisers were closing in on them. Remnant had proven it's technological capabilities were inconsistent, making predicting the strength of the enemy vessels extremely difficult. Even with the capabilities of the Dominion, there was risk in any engagement, especially considering their lack of knowledge on the opponent's weaponry. But retreating wasn't an option, as it would leave the forces on the ground without cover, which left only one alternative.

"Lieutenant Gage, engage masterarm for the MAC, and begin the charging sequence. Top off the capacitors to fifty percent and load a Flechette round."

"Aye Sir." Gage replied.

"Ensign Williams." Richard spoke, turning to the young helmsman. "Bring us about, gentle maneuver so that we're targeting the main ship.

The Dominion shifted into position, slowed by the power drain of the charging Magnetic Accelerator Cannon, but the ship's reactor rushed to fill the new demand. The Spinally-mounted coilgun demanded the entire ship rotate to aim the weapon, but even with the limitations of a planet's atmosphere, the Dominion possessed capable maneuverability.

_Thank god I turned down that commission on a Destroyer._ Richard thought, thankful for his vessel's capabilities in the atmosphere.

"Sir, if I may interject." Bradford said, with Richard waving him to continue. "This provides a perfect chance to test our weapons strength against the enemy, perhaps we shouldn't jump straight to the main gun."

"I had a similar idea, but I'm hesitant to use anything that we can't replace without guaranteed results." Richard replied. "Maybe a spread of Archer Missiles? It would certainly soften them up."

"Excellent thinking." Bradford replied. "Lieutenant Gage, arm Archer Pods A through C and lock one pod to each target, let's soften them up for the storm."

"Aye Sir!" Gage replied, before carrying out the order. Richard thought he detected a hint of nervousness, but to be honest, he was feeling a bit nervous himself.

_Well if you're so worried about the enemy's capabilities, ask the Atlesian standing next to you!_ His inner consciousness critically suggested. "Specialist Schnee, what's the strength of the enemy's energy shields?"

"Considerable, many times more effective than any other shield in service. The Cruiser is the pride of the fleet, I'm amazed they've managed to acquire these." Winter stated. "Still... I don't imagine they could stand toe-to-toe with some of the weapons you've described."

"All targets now one-hundred kilometers out, and closing." Chen interjected, furiously working away at her console. "Energy signatures are intensifying, they're charging weapons!"

"They will need to get closer to fire." Winter added. "But not much closer, they're approaching maximum range."

"Firing solution set!" Gage interjected. "Archer pods are hot, ready to fire!"

"Fire." Richard simply replied.

A series of dull thuds echoed throughout the hull, as sixty Archer Missiles were launched from their tubes, before quickly igniting and proceeding on their own power.

"Clarion in position, patching the feed over." Gage reported. "I'm working on the firing solution for the MAC now, we're almost at half of the required charge."

Richard took a look at what the Clarion was seeing. The three Atlesian cruisers looked very unusual, unlike any warship he had seen before. It was difficult to pick out any meaningful information about the vessel at a glance, which frustrated him greatly. The most familiar element of a long narrow spine that comprised much of the ship's superstructure. Any sense of familiarity was lost by the rest of the ship, including what appeared to be a sort of underslung command or observation deck. As well as a series of large, blocky, cube-like structures that were presumably the ship's engines, and a series of six wing-like appendages emerging from the rear of the airship. The three Airships were now standing off with the Dominion, with the only thing separating them being layers of clouds and distance.

"Wait, these are their warships? I thought these were their troop transports." Bradford said.

"There are multiple variants, all with the same general hull pattern." Winter explained, also looking at the feed. "I can now confirm those are the Cruiser models, I advise extreme caution."

"Way ahead of you Specialist..." Bradford said, eyeing the unfamiliar ships with great uncertainty.

"Missile impact, twenty seconds." Chen reported. "Enemy countermeasures are going live, attempting to counter..."

Richard watched through the camera as bands of red light lashed out from the bows and broadsides of the Atlesian Cruisers. The blasts of energy weren't aimed at the Dominion however, but at its missile volley. Seven missiles were destroyed outright, and another three were damaged enough to trigger their self-detonating mechanisms.

At least a dozen small missiles erupted from each cruiser, aiming again towards the incoming missiles from the Dominion.

_Missile to missile interceptors?_ Richard curiously observed. _Perhaps their technology has some capabilities after all._

The interceptor missiles collided with only a further three of the Archer Missiles, which slightly altered their courses to avoid the oncoming hazards. CIWS guns went live as the Archer's performed their final approach, bringing their total number down to forty.

_Two-thirds hit, not bad, by modern standards._ Richard thought, waiting for the impact.

Those missiles that successfully impacted had impressive effects, creating large blasts and clouds of smoke that obstructed line of sight momentarily. All three Airships were struck by the missiles, with those on the flanks taking the worst of the spread. Their shields flared with the impacts, and when the smoke had cleared, the shields of the airship on the right flank had died altogether.

As all of this was displayed on the Bridge's primary console, many of the Bridge Crew gave a hearty cheer. Richard allowed himself a small grin, victories were a rarity in the Navy.

"Steady!" Bradford shouted, although even he seemed to be emotionally lifted somewhat by the display. "We're not done yet."

"Certainly not, and they're now within firing range." Winter added, worry evident in her voice.

"Lieutenant Gage, what's the status of our MAC?" Richard calmly asked, not letting his own concern show.

"MAC charge at forty-three percent." Gage reported. "Firing solution is almost calculated."

_Well, I suppose we'll be testing the armor then._ Richard thought, letting his gaze wander to the blast shields that covered the windows of the Bridge. _If they're anything like Covenant Pulse Lasers, we'll survive, just with a few new bruises and burns._

"Ensign Gillespie, order damage control teams to stand ready for action, order non-essential personnel to secure themselves." Richard ordered.

"Aye Sir!" Gillespie responded.

Almost as soon as he relayed the order, the Airships unleashed a volley of pulse lasers, this time aimed at the Dominion. The whole ship briefly shifted thanks to some quick thinking by Ensign Williams, who fired the port thrusters at full strength in an attempt to shake off the attack. The Dominion rumbled under the surprising physical strength of the impacts, the sound resembling an angry, animalistic growl.

_I know girl, we're gonna make em' pay._ Richard thought, reassuringly rubbing his hand on the holotable's edge, knowing damn well that the ship couldn't understand his thoughts.

"Damage report!" Bradford shouted, but Richard could guess it wasn't nearly as bad as they had expected.

"Frontal armor on decks one through three suffered hits, structural integrity stabilizing now. No hull breaches detected, but the out plating is at the boiling point. Ablative sheeting is gone!" Gillespie rapidly reported.

"MAC is charged and ready!" Gage interrupted.

_Time to make history._ Richard thought, well aware of the impacts this exact moment would have in the future. "Fire!"

For the first time in Remnant's history, recorded or not, a weapon of mass destruction was fired by humanity. The Dominion physically shifted a few millimeters as it shook, the lights flickered, and a sonic boom loud enough to deafen anyone within a kilometer of the Dominion on the ground, which nobody was. In a matter of milliseconds, the projectile had cleared the barrel of the Dominion's main gun.

Richard had intentionally selected the Flechette round for a number of reasons. Most predominantly, it allowed all three targets to be struck with one shot, hopefully eliminating or crippling all of them. It was also easy to replace, and worked better within a planet's atmosphere due to the aerodynamic nature of the projectiles. But most critically, it had a short enough range that overpenetration wasn't too great a concern.

The Flechette round initially started as hundreds of tungsten rods bound together by pressure seals. The seals were designed to snap microseconds after the projectile left the barrel, causing the massive darts to begin to scatter. The effect was something akin to a dramatically scaled up shotgun, flinging a massive web of mechanically-engineered aerodynamic shrapnel in the face of the enemy.

The monumental speed of the flechettes meant that they hit their targets in less than a second, the effects were devastating. While dozens of darts missed their mark, many more didn't, and whatever remained of the two Airships shields was eliminated almost instantaneously. The tungsten darts punched through armor, weapons, computers, flesh, and superstructure as if they were hot knives through butter. Many projectiles punched completely through the vessels, their speed barely affected.

The lead Airship quickly lost power and began to fall apart as the superstructure failed under the extreme damage, as well as the sudden force of gravity. The right-hand Airship was struck in multiple volatile components, and exploded into a massive multicolored fireball, fueled by her ammo storage. The final airship, whose shields were already disabled, was literally ripped apart, with the result scraps of metal being so badly malformed they were barely identifiable as once belonging to a ship.

The display was utterly stunning, even to the crew of the Dominion. They were so accustomed to even their strongest weapons failing to match Covenant shielding, that they sat in silence and shock.

He had expected results but… it was different to see it with your own eyes. The power they had at their fingertips weighed on him for the first time since their arrival. HE understood why the locals had feared them. He understood why some had hated them. Richard's mind fell to words uttered centuries ago by a mind ahead of his time. He spoke softly. "I am become death…"

The planet below was dangerous, even by UNSC standards, but the people had proven himself strong-willed, resourceful, and reasonably advanced… and he had just shown the world just how useless they were. The elation at the victory was practically unrivaled, as the beleaguered servicemen gave a cry of victory. Richard wished he could join in. Bradford offered Richard a quiet handshake, which he accepted.

"Huh, that went well." Bradford muttered, before clearing his throat and shouting out. "Celebrate later, we still have a job to do!"

As the rest of the Bridge Crew returned to their assignments, moving to help complete the final stages of Operation Bismarck, Richard turned to face Winter. Her face was flushed completely of blood, and she hadn't lost her expression of shock since she had seen the destruction. For the first time, her professional demeanor was overpowered by sheer shock and awe at the mayhem she had witnessed.

"Are you still with us here, Specialist?" Richard gently asked, remembering that she had just watched her people's strongest vessels get obliterated.

_Show a little empathy, this is probably like watching Harvest get burned for her. Except Harvest wasn't covered in Slavers._ Richard thought, mentally kicking himself.

"I... believe so." Winter said, taking a deep breath, regaining her stony expression. "I won't lie to you Commander, I'm... deeply unsettled by that display."

"No harm or dishonor in that, Specialist Schnee." Bradford commented, offering a rare bit of empathy. "Do bear in mind that where we come from, it's normally our ships that get thrashed that badly, take a moment to breathe."

Richard was content to let her sit the rest of the operation out if she needed to, but she steeled herself quite admirably, and within a matter of seconds, her demeanor hadn't quite returned, but she was at least mentally present. He knew word of this would make it to General Ironwood… maybe even with a request to be taken off the ship.

"Right, let's finish this mission then, shall we?" Winter asked.

"Certainly." Richard replied.


	34. Chapter 34

**Point Guderian, AKA Selfoss Strip Mine**

**October 9th, 0751 Atlas Time, 2552**

A final encore of gunfire signaled the end of the long and dreary fight to finish off the Grimm. Jorge was grateful for the timely intervention of Ben and Meadows, who had bolted at full speed to back up their embattled comrades. From there, the fight devolved into a brutal slog, a close-quarters dance of death with the Grimm, who seemed to be expressly built for this kind of fight.

But their training served them well, and they all made it through the battle. They regrouped at the entrance to the mine, reloaded, and caught their breath.

"That was... exhilarating." Fairfire commented between deep breaths. "Everyone still good?"

"One of those pig things ripped a hole in my undersuit, left leg, stings like hell..." Meadows replied, tending to the flesh wound with a small strip of biofoam.

"Save as much as you can, our packages may have injuries as well." Jorge instructed, criticizing the ODST's usage of the precious resource on what was a comparatively minor wound.

_With what little intel we have, I'd prefer to have a whole Medical Company backing us up. _Jorge thought, but quickly dismissed the wishful thinking, it was worthless.

"My bad. I'll finish it off with bandages." Meadows replied, quickly admitting his fault and taking responsibility, an action that Jorge approved of.

"We don't have to call them 'Packages', do we, Sir?" Yu critically asked. "I mean, seems like these shitheads have dehumanized those poor people enough already."

Jorge didn't see the immediate relevance of the question, but understood her concern. It was always important to remember that they were talking about people, not statistics. "Call em' what you like, as long as it follows brevity code and keeps the meaning clear."

"Understood, Sir." Yu replied, seemingly surprised by his answer for reasons beyond him.

Jorge returned his attention to the rest of his team. "Ben, how's your ammo?"

"Well off on my end, Sir." Ben replied from his position at the entrance to the mine.

Jorge thought for a moment, looking back towards the prisoners they'd taken. They had five now, since another had come out of the mine and offered his own surrender. Leaving them alone on the surface was just asking for trouble, but so was bringing them along into the mine. He quickly decided that leaving a small section of soldiers behind was the only prudent course of action, they would also serve to keep their exit open.

"Kerry, Kowalski, stay here and dig in, keep your eyes peeled and the prisoners secure!" Jorge shouted. "Everyone else, follow me, we're going in."

"Yes Sir!" Kerry confirmed, the ODST giving a sharp nod of confirmation.

He and the rest of the Helljumpers regrouped with Ben, who had taken cover behind some large pieces of machinery. The steady slope leading into the ground was marked by a series of rails, although no carts were visible.

"Curie, are there any cameras down there?" Jorge asked, hoping for a little bit more intelligence before they proceeded any further.

"I'm afraid not." Curie answered. "Although it seems that all of the lights are working, should you run into any resistance, I can shut them off to blind the enemy. I know for a fact that the quality of our night vision far exceeds that of the enemy."

"Hmm, good. Keep them on for now. Hopefully, we won't need them." Jorge replied. "Yu, Meadows, are your shields ready?"

"Only one way to find out..." Yu muttered in response, before activating her Jackal Shield Gauntlet, which suddenly flickered to life. At first, the color of the shield was blood red, but it shifted to become a steady blue after a moment, which was quickly joined by Meadows's own shield. Both of them drew their M6C/SOCOM Magnums, the sleek black handgun offering a far better complement to the Shield Gauntlet than something that fired as inaccurately as a plasma pistol.

"Ready." Meadows confirmed.

"Good, you two take point. Ben and I will follow close behind, followed by Fairfire and Peggy." Jorge ordered, his formation ensured that the two members of his squad with no shields were in the rear, at the least risk of harm.

Close quarters combat was always dangerous, limiting movement and reducing a soldier's ability to avoid harm. Underground, especially in a somewhat narrow tunnel, those aspects of combat were amplified even further. Jorge hoped that their energy shields would offer a degree of protection from any ambushes, but there was no way to offer any true degree of safety in such a dangerous place.

"Mind the support pillars, we don't want to bring this place down on top of us." Jorge warned, noting that some of the supports were made from wood, while others were made from steel. He would have to be the most careful with his shots, as not only were they high-caliber, they were also explosive.

"And the Dust." Curie added. "Some, but not all of it, can be explosive, even in its raw form."

"I fucking hate this planet." Yu muttered. "Can't even miss a shot without it trying to kill us."

"Amen." Fairfire grumpily added.

Jorge was surprised by Fairfire's tolerance of Yu's complaining. Although he certainly could empathize with her sentiment, it was dramatically inappropriate for a mid-mission comment. Fairfire should've known to lead by example, and at the very least enforce a vague sense of discipline.

"Lock it down, both of you. Keep your eyes forward." Jorge instructed sternly. Thankfully, they both listened.

As they crept down the main tunnel, they spotted numerous offshoot tunnels. Most of them were fairly small, and protected by chain-link doors. Almost all of them just held small storage areas for equipment and a ventilation system, but someone had left their handheld tablet in one of them. Jorge had almost mistaken it for some kind of tool or handheld battery when he pulled it open inadvertently and a screen of solid light held the two parts together, revealing its true function.

"Hard Light?" Jorge asked, before closing the screen. He was very confused as to how such a primitive planet would develop such advanced technology.

"That is a type of Dust, although to my knowledge, it does have some limitations compared to the Covenant's usage of the technology." Curie explained. "I would like to perform further research later, but for now, we should keep moving."

"Yes, we should." Jorge said, storing the device before returning to formation.

They didn't get to make much more progress

"Hold up, anyone else hear that?" Ben asked, gesturing for everyone to stop.

Jorge listened, he thought he heard something scrape the ground, but it was only the sound of an ODSTs boots.

"Nothing, what was it?" Fairfire asked, her posture indicating a sense of suspicion.

"It sounded like something scraping along rocks, something heavy." Ben explained.

"Analyzing audio... nothing found." Curie added.

Meadows suddenly stiffened up. "Wait, I heard it too, there." Meadows added, gesturing forwards with his pistol. "What the hell was that?!"

_One person hearing something is an oddity, two people hearing it means that your mission is going to get a lot more interesting._ Jorge mentally quoted his old instructor.

His motion tracker revealed nothing, but that wasn't a guarantee they were safe. "Keep your eyes peeled..."

"Aw hell..." Yu commented, shifting her shield in discomfort.

"Focus! Everyone, listen!" Jorge ordered, before he heard it too. It sounded almost like a tiny rockslide, but it was muffled by stone.

Without warning and in unison, every motion tracker in the squad pinged a single hostile target fifteen meters ahead of them. Several of his squadmates pinged their status lights as amber, a silent warning, but Jorge had already pieced it together.

"Steady..." Jorge quickly stated, silencing any remarks that any of the rest of the squad were about to say.

His motion tracker pinged again, this time at ten meters away, with a second target twenty meters behind them. Fairfire and Peggy quickly turned around and assumed firing positions. The sound was getting louder now, and it wasn't stopping.

_Here we go... _Jorge thought, unsure what to expect, but ready nonetheless.

At last, the ceiling began to shift sporadically a few meters ahead of them, before several small chunks of stone clattered to the ground. A hole around half a meter wide suddenly appeared in the ceiling, before the maw of a very ugly Grimm emerged, its features resembling a Centipede. It's bone carapace formed a layer of thick armor, and the ever-growing number of motion tracker contacts told Jorge that it was not alone.

"Weapons free!" Jorge yelled, as another one of the creatures began to emerge from the ceiling, followed by another.

His first burst of gunfire was accompanied by a long burst from Ben's Assault Rifle, and their combined firepower blew the hostile creature into two pieces, with enough of their bullets managing to cut around the armor. Unlike the other Grimm that he'd killed, this kind bled an ugly green slime as it died.

The ODSTs joined in, opening fire as more of the monsters emerged. The report of Fairfire's shotgun confirmed they were coming from behind as well, coincided by one of the enemy contacts behind him vanishing from his motion tracker. The creatures crawled and dashed towards the soldiers, although none made it past the wall of gunfire. These Grimm were deceptively large, around the same mass as an adult human, albeit thinner and longer.

The original trio of the creatures failed to reach the squad, their sheer combined firepower stopping the advance. The fight was furious and blisteringly fast, careful planning abandoned in favor of reacting quickly enough to hold the line. Still, Jorge put his heavy weapon to good use, creating gaps in the enemies armor for his squadmates to exploit. But more emerged, preventing them from getting a chance to reload.

Jorge abandoned the effort to control the pace of his gunfire, as sheer overwhelming firepower took priority over accuracy, which was of negligible importance at point blank range. There were at least a dozen of the creatures now in front of them, with maybe another six behind them.

Thankfully, it seemed Fairfire had the foresight to reload her shotgun with buckshot, making it difficult for the Grimm to flank them, with Peggy offering fire support with his Assault Rifle. Yu and Meadows blocked the beasts from getting any closer with their shields, taking precision shots with their powerful handguns at gaps in the enemy's armor. Ben and Jorge focused on frontal crowd control, but the surprising durability of the creatures nullified their effectiveness.

One of the Grimm began to climb along the wall instead of the floor, which gave it the extra second it needed to launch itself towards the packed formation of soldiers like a living torpedo. Yu managed to catch it with her shield and was knocked back by the force, she attempted to throw it off, but it held strong as it gripped to the edges of the shield, snapping its jaws at her head, but missing narrowly.

"A little help?!" She cried out as she dodged another bite that would have easily removed her head.

Jorge took a calculated risk and deduced that if he didn't intervene, the ODST would lose the fight, meaning that it would be practical to shoot regardless of the risk of friendly fire. He quickly reduced the offending creature into a fine mist with a long burst, before moving to cover the Helljumper as she struggled to return to her position. Jorge could not immediately deduce if she was wounded, but she showed no signs of staying down.

Another of the wretched creatures leapt through the now open hole in their line towards Jorge, but he had predicted the strike. Dropping his weapon to free his hands, he caught the Centipede and forced it into a battle of strength that it had no chance of winning. Solidifying his grip, he dug the fingers of his gauntlet into the space between its head and it's bone mask, before tearing the protective plating off, along with chunks of its face.

"Hold it steady!" Ben shouted, before leveling the muzzle of his Assault Rifle into the creature's face and blowing it apart with a long stream of gunfire.

"Cover Sato!" Jorge shouted as he released the corpse from his grip, noticing that she was still struggling to recover.

Jorge assessed the situation rapidly, most of the creatures were dead, but they had failed to stop them all. Meadows was caught in a melee stalemate with another Centipede, which he slowly seemed to be losing. Jorge attempted to help by getting a grip on the monster, but failed to get a good grip on it as it squirmed so much. His second attempt was more successful, and he managed to pull it off the Helljumper and send a power-armored fist straight through the beast's skull with one good punch.

_That was surprisingly effective._ Jorge thought, noting that this Grimm type was weak to blunt impacts. He retrieved Etilka off the ground, before using the weapon as a blunt instrument to smash the face of another creature, which seemed to obstruct it's vision. The Grimm swiftly tunneled into the ground and wisely did not return.

Jorge turned around to assist the other ODSTs, but it seemed that he hadn't given Fairfire enough credit. She and Peggy had annihilated the creatures with what appeared to be comparatively little effort, and the only surviving creature he saw was savagely blown apart by a shot from Fairfire's shotgun, unable to move as she pinned it beneath her armored boot. The last Grimm was caught in a two-way melee fight with Ben and Yu. Yu pinned it beneath her shield and body while Ben finished it off with his knife.

_Heh, just like Emile._ Jorge thought, somewhat amused despite the seriousness of the situation.

With all of the Grimm dead or running for their lives, the squad reloaded and took a moment to catch their breath. The whole fight had lasted less than two minutes, but the ODSTs were totally drained, and hundreds of shell casings littered the floor. The Grimm corpses were dissipating, but it seemed that the green blood that now covered all of them would not disappear so easily.

"Fuck... this... planet." Yu said in-between deep breaths, as she wiped a thick layer of the green slime off of her visor. This time, Jorge did not voice any objection.

**UNSC Dominion**

**October 9th, 0800 Atlas Time, 2552**

Nearly an hour after the first strikes had begun, and the Marines were beginning to show some results. Two Pelicans and an Albatross loaded to the brim with wounded and freed slaves had returned, been rapidly unloaded, and sent back out for more.

"First Platoon reports straggling resistance, they have them on the ropes." Bradford reported. "Lieutenant Clark reports all packages are secured and en-route to the Dominion. He wants to know if they should push the survivors or regroup and extract."

It only took Richard a moment to make his decision. "Order them to regroup, the Grimm will finish the rest of the job, no need to take risks. Get them extraction whenever we have something available."

"Aye Sir." Bradford confirmed.

Richard re-examined the holotable and the critical information displayed on it, it changed so often that staying up to date was becoming difficult. Two targets had already been completely cleared of resistance, and with Clark's report, three no longer held any slaves. Richard was well aware that the influx of wounded slaves and Marines would overwhelm the Sickbay staff rapidly, and he planned to address the problem before it happened.

"Ensign Gillespie, issue updated orders for all Marine Corpsmen. Once they return to the Dominion, they are to report to Sick Bay and assist with the triage." Richard ordered.

"Aye Sir." Gillespie reported.

_There's gotta be something else I'm forgetting, I feel like I'm forgetting something..._ Richard thought, feeling a sense of foreboding.

"Things seem to be going fairly well." Winter noted, her professional demeanor now recovered. "Are you expecting any further surprises?"

"No, but that doesn't mean we won't be prepared." Richard answered. "Complacency kills, and we cannot let our guard down until the enemy has been eliminated or routed completely."

_There's still a lot of things that can go wrong, even if we're starting to make serious progress._ Richard thought, unable to shake the sense of unease. _Maybe I've forgotten about a target?_

"Lieutenant Chen, can you identify any surviving enemy strongpoints?" He asked.

She quickly examined her dataz. Although she was technically a Navigations Officer, she'd begun taking over some of the roles traditionally filled by the Operations Officer, in order to clear up some of Ensign Gillespie's workload. "Point Adolf is still showing pockets of resistance, no reports from Point Guderian, but the computer is predicting little resistance."

_They still haven't reported in?_ Richard thought, surprised and worried. "Get me an update from Onyx immediately, see if they need support."

"Affirmative Sir." Chen said, quickly hailing the squad.

"I can't imagine they got overwhelmed, maybe they're having equipment failures?" Bradford suggested, although it seemed like he was also worried about the lack of an update.

"Somehow I doubt that..." Richard replied.

"Commander!" Chen called out, regaining his attention. "Most of Onyx is apparently underground looking for the Packages, but one of the Helljumpers relayed that they've secured the surface."

"Dispatch First Platoon once they've returned and rearmed." Richard instructed, to which she gave a firm nod.

"Something on your mind?" Bradford guessed, noting his precautionary actions.

"Call it a hunch..." Richard replied, an odd sense of foreboding clouding his mind.

"A hunch?" Winter asked, apparently surprised by his reasoning.

"Well, it's also a good idea to have some fresh troops in the area in case something does go wrong." Bradford added. "But as a general rule of thumb, trust that gut feeling, it'll save your life."

Richard didn't contribute any more thoughtful words, as his gut felt like it was trying to escape.

**Point Guderian, Underground**

**October 9th, 0806 Atlas Time, 2552**

It didn't take long for the layout of the mineshaft to level out, it included steadily diminishing. Offshoot tunnels led into small pockets of ore, minecart stations, and complex looking machinery. But Ben could tell he wasn't the only one curious about the lack of not just prisoners, but also any defenders.

"Not complaining or anything, but does it seem quiet to anyone else?" Yu asked. Ben could tell she was still visibly shaken by her encounter with the Centipede, and he didn't blame her.

"Yeah, we should have found someone by now." Jorge replied. "Pick up the pace, let's keep heading-"

He paused, and Ben noticed why, as he had spotted the same thing. A thin red trail of blood on the floor, slowly trickling into the main shaft from one of the offshoot tunnels. The ODSTs noticed it as soon as Jorge went quiet, all of them staying silent to avoid giving themselves away any further. Ben couldn't hear anything coming from the tunnel, or even see what was down it, but human blood could only mean one thing.

_We're late to a fight._ Ben thought grimly, immediately expecting the worst.

"Yu, Meadows, lead the way." Jorge quietly said over the radio, his speakers left off.

Moving sneakily was never Ben's strong suit, but he did his best to remain as quiet as possible as he followed closely behind the ODSTs. He was ready to fire over Meadow's shoulder should the need arise, but he couldn't hear anyone, and his motion tracker was clear. Again, he felt that horrible sense of foreboding.

Yu peeked around the corner first, before being followed by Meadows. Neither of them fired and both pinged their status lights as green, signalling the all-clear. Ben followed them around the corner and saw that the tunnel was protected by a large two-part swinging door mounted on side mounted hinges, it was made of solid metal plates, preventing him from seeing what was on the other side. There was a small gap between the floor and the door, which was slowly but constantly leaking blood, as well as an odor so foul that Ben could smell it through his helmet's filters. There was a notable lack of light on the other side, hinting that the tunnel or room on the other side was dark.

"Aw hell, not again..." Yu muttered, so faintly that Ben barely heard her. His mind filled with horrible guesswork, which he rapidly banished. "Think it was Grimm?"

"Quiet, if it is Grimm we don't want to give them a heads up." Ben replied, using TEAMCOM to communicate and not his speakers.

The ODSTs looked at the door and the blood with a sense of dreadful anticipation that was visible even through their polarized visors. It was only Jorge who didn't appear in the least bit shaken, he stood as if he had infinite confidence, offering Ben some limited reassurance.

"Ben, deal with the lock." Jorge said over the radio.

Ben crept up to the door, rifle raised, and reached out to the small padlock holding the doors together. Ben noted almost as soon as he got a better look that it was already unlocked, and only needed him to flick a small lever to open it. He flicked it and quickly took a step back.

"Squad, listen up. No matter what is on the other side of this door, we will clear the room according to procedure. We do not slow down or stop until it is clear, do you understand me?" Jorge asked, receiving five silent green pings in response. "Good, Sergeant, breach on your mark."

Ben took a deep breath, steadied his grip on his rifle, and gave the doors a harsh kick. Technically there wasn't a need to be so rough with the door, especially now that it was unlocked, but the loud slamming added an extra aspect to the all-important "Shock and Awe" aspect of breaching a room. The door flew open, and Curie quickly activated Ben's helmet lights to illuminate the darkened room as the squad quickly walked in, weapons raised.

He almost wished she had kept his lights off.

There was a noticeable pause between when he kicked the door down and when the ODST's followed in after him. A second when the group was completely silent, simply looking into the hell they had just opened.

Bodies was too kind a word, these were corpses. Dozens of them were piled throughout the room. Clothing so torn and dirty they looked more like rags fell from them, soaked in blood.

Ben tried to breathe but found it increasingly difficult.

The trail of blood they had seen was only a small portion of what now covered the floor, although it seemed most of it was now dry. Some of the ODSTs gagged from the sight and the smell, but they pressed on regardless, sweeping their lights around the darkness, looking for threats, none emerged. With the room cleared, their training began to fall apart.

For an awful, uncomfortable moment, Ben was too shocked to do anything. The rest of his squad stood silently behind him, and as their lights stopped moving, Ben knew that they were standing as still as he was. He felt paralysed, his mind totally overwhelmed at the massacre that had taken place before him. In spite of his armor, his weapons, his squad, and his skills, he felt totally helpless.

Ben had seen dead civilians before, at the other mines, but this...

The silence and shock was broken by the sound of retching, along with the sound of a helmet falling to the ground. Ben turned and watched Yu rapidly dispose of her early breakfast, followed closely by Fairfire. Meadows stood like a statue, he was so still that Ben couldn't even tell if he was still breathing. Even Jorge seemed shocked by the brutality of the murders, but he recovered the fastest.

"I..." Curie commented, although her voice was somewhat distorted, as if the speaker she spoke with had glitched momentarily. It shocked Ben out of his trance somewhat.

"Curie are you o-"

"Sergeant, help me look for survivors." Jorge wearily ordered. "The rest of you, get out of here, clear the hallway."

Ben softly nodded, his training and instincts fuelling his actions, rather than conscious thought. He and Jorge slowly began to walk among the corpses, trying their best not to step on them. Ben flipped one of them over with his foot, they were a young man with goat horns, his throat had been gouged out.

"The Smartest Woman I've ever known once gave me some advice for this sort of situation. " Jorge commented as Ben slowly tipped the corpse back over. "Don't try to look away, or mentally avoid it, just keep moving. The more you try to avoid what you're looking at, the worse it comes back later."

Ben did as he suggested, and the two of them doubled-checked all forty-three corpses in the room, confirming that not a single person had survived. All of them had their throats gouged out, bullet holes in the back of their heads.

_Executed, without a chance to fight back._ Ben thought. _I can't think of a worse way to die than that._

"Just like Gao, all over again..." Jorge softly said, seemingly not speaking to anyone in particular. "Come along Sergeant, there's nothing we can do for these people anymore."

"Yes Sir." Ben sadly nodded, his voice unintentionally cracking somewhat.

Ben and Jorge exited the room and shut the doors behind them. The ODSTs looked absolutely devastated, but they had re-equipped their helmets, and held their weapons with death grips.

"Nothing, not even one?" Fairfire guessed, her voice utterly empty, as she noted that Ben and Jorge returned empty handed. "God damnit..."

"Hold it together a bit longer, we still have a job to do." Jorge instructed, somehow sounding utterly unfazed. "There were seventy-three people listed as being held here in our intel reports, and we didn't find that many bodies."

"How many?" Yu asked, her voice coarse.

"Forty-three." Jorge bluntly said. "There's a time and a place to feel defeated, and it is not when there are people counting on us. Get on your feet, we're moving out!"

Jorge's words inspired just enough energy into the beleaguered ODSTs to bring them back to their previous formation. Ben couldn't help but feel surprised that they had broken their discipline, even with the brutality, Helljumpers were supposed to be hardened veterans.

_You nearly lost your own._ An unhelpful voice in the back of his head pointed out, which Ben quickly banished as the squad began to move again.

The shaft didn't go much further, but at the end, they found another one of the double doors in an offshoot shaft. Everyone stiffened up, dreading what they were about to do.

This time however, there was no blood leaking out from the crack, and light was visible on the other side. Ben thought he heard a faint murmuring of voices on the other side, which silenced as the footsteps of his squad approached.

"Squad, prepare to breach." Jorge instructed.

The rest of the squad moved into position, but as they did so, Ben began to feel that sense of foreboding again.

_Maybe breaching is a mistake?_ He guessed, unsure of the reasoning for the feeling. "Wait."

"Something wrong?" Jorge asked.

"If it's slaves on the other side here, they might panic when we breach." Ben suggested. "Maybe we should send a hostile challenge and demand they identify themselves?"

Jorge looked at him with an indecipherable expression, not made any more apparent by his concealed face. "...Very well Sergeant, take the lead."

_That still doesn't feel right..._ Ben thought, fearful that he was about to find more bodies.

Ben approached the door and was about to give it a harsh knock when an unfamiliar voice shouted behind him. "Squad, there they are!"

A chill ran down Ben's spine as he realized what had happened, the bullets started flying before he even turned around. His shields had taken half a dozen hits by the time he turned back around, before seeing the enemy soldiers who had found them, all in superior cover in the main shaft. The rest of his squad seemed equally off guard, and Ben quickly realized just how bad a situation they were in.

Both Onyx Team and the enemy squad flung everything they had at one-another, bullets flew, ricocheted off shields and cover. Screams quickly filled the air as Jorge pelted the enemy with explosive rounds, spraying shrapnel and debris throughout the enemy formation and quickly inspiring them to panic. Ben took the extra moment he needed to acquire a proper firing stance before he opened fire, and was rewarded for his efforts as his fire quickly eliminated one of the enemy soldiers.

"Ben, put up a shield, for the love of god!" Fairfire cried out from behind him. Ben silently complied with the panicked order, and deployed a drop shield over his squad. Offering a critical layer of protection against the hail of gunfire.

All at once, the gunfire stopped as the Mercenaries returned to cover. Ben heard harsh breathing and groaning from his squadmates as they recovered from the shock of the ambush. The status monitor for his squad informed him that Meadows and Fairfire were both wounded, although how badly he didn't know. There was scared and confused murmuring from the other side of the steel door, which was now indented by bullets.

"Ben, reload." Jorge instructed as he added another belt of ammo to his own weapon. "Curie, prepare to kill the lights."

"Ready!" Curie reported, anxiety in her voice. Ben reloaded as his superior commanded, reassured that Jorge had a plan.

"Good, prepare your VISR in advance." Jorge instructed. Ben switched on the visual filtering system, and allowed his eyes to adjust to the bright lights.

"The Drop Shield has twenty seconds left." Curie reported.

"Ready." Ben reported.

Jorge readied his weapon with malicious intent. "Curie, kill the lights."

In an instant, every light in the mine went offline, but Ben's augmented eyesight coupled with VISR allowed him to still clearly see the outlines of his surroundings. The enemy began to cry out in confusion and surprise.

"Move up, eliminate the threat before they can recover." Jorge calmly instructed.

He and Jorge walked forward, moving through the energy shield with weapons raised, before opening fire. The Mercenaries stood no chance, blinded and confused, they were completely unable to put any sort of a fight. Some of them chose to sporadically spray gunfire, although since they could only see the outline of the Drop Shield and the vague silhouettes of the Spartans, it was mostly ineffective.

By now, the Energy Shields on Ben's suit had failed completely, drained by constant impacts and the energy strain of the Drop Shield. But the enemy gunfire proved insufficient to penetrate the titanium plating of the armor, or even slow him down as he fired upon the helpless opponents.

One Mercenary saw how the battle was going and attempted to surrender, only to be killed by friendly fire from a blinded ally. Jorge's muzzle flashes painted a golden silhouette of the Spartan, further inspiring terror in the enemy. In less than thirty seconds, a twelve man squad of Aura-armed opponents had been totally destroyed by the two Spartans, with no survivors.

"Excellent work Sergeant." Jorge commented, looking at the carnage. "Curie, can we have some light here?"

It took a second longer than it should have, likely testament to the rock interfering with the signal. She reactivated the lights as Ben turned off his VISR. The two Spartans turned away from the fresh carnage and back to their squadmates.

"Son of a bitch..." Fairfire muttered, applying pressure to a gunshot wound on her right leg, which Ben quickly took over for her. "...goddamn animals, they were coming here to finish the job."

"Yeah, motherfuckers..." Yu added, picking a shard of metal out of her visor. "Meadows, you good?"

"Me? Oh yeah, I'm fine." Meadows replied, obvious sarcasm in his voice. "I mean, my foot feels like it got crushed by a goddamn Elephant, but yeah, I'm fine."

"Hang tight, I'll have a look." Jorge said. "Ben, handle the door."

"Yes Sir." Ben complied, letting Yu take over treating Fairfire's wounds.

He approached the door and gave it a series of hard knocks. "UNSC Marine Corps, identify yourselves immediately or we will force our way in!"

"Are… are the guards gone?" A confused voice shouted from the other side.

_Survivors._ Ben breathed a silent sigh of relief as he tore the lock clean off of its mounting. "We've dealt with the guards. We're with the rescue team, don't worry. Stand back from the door!"

"Oh thank the gods!" The voice replied, before relaying Ben's instructions, presumably to the other Survivors.

He pushed the door open, revealing a room of similar size to the other they had found. Around thirty unhealthy-looking Faunus in ragwear occupied the room, either standing or sitting on the unsafe-looking beds.

"Thank you!" One Faunus in particular stood out from the rest. A smile over took his face when he realised they were not with the SDC. "Who are you? Are you huntsmen?"

"Now isn't the time for explanations, Ben." Curie reported, speaking only to him. "These are all of the remaining Slaves, we need to evacuate them while we can."

"Did you find any of the others?" The man urgently asked.

Ben froze and looked at the man, his smile fell.

"We need to move." Ben quickly said. "What's your name?"

"Harold, but-" he said.

Ben interrupted him with a waved hand. "Later, can everyone walk?"

Harold turned to the other Slaves behind him. "I think so, we can follow along. Do you know the way out of here?"

"Yes, all of you, follow me." Ben said. "Don't let anyone lag behind."

His squadmates had stabilized their wounds, and struggled back to their feet.

"I can walk." Fairfire protested when Ben offered to help her move. "Help Meadows, his looks uglier."

"Aww, thanks Liz. It's nice to know that you do care." Meadows mockingly replied as he helped him up to one foot.

"Are we all good?" Jorge asked, inspecting everyone to ensure they were alert and standing upright. "Alright, let's move out."

"Wait, what if more guards attack?" Harold asked nervously, looking at the corpses of those that Ben and Jorge had already killed.

"Then you drop to the ground and don't move until we say otherwise." Jorge replied. "Now come on, we need to get out of here."

**Schnee Manor, Jacques Schnee's personal study**

**October 9th, 0830 Atlas Time**

Before, Jacques had been worried, frustrated, and angry. Now, he was just frightened. All seven of the Mines that had been attacked had gone silent, nobody was reporting anything anymore. Worse still, his entire Airfleet had been destroyed, the crew all killed by some kind of alien superweapon. His Officers were stunned, arguing over what to do next.

In just over an hour, the seven largest Mines on Remnant had been attacked and the staff presumably killed. He was still in complete shock by what had happened, what Jacques had initially thought of as a war, he now recognized was simply a disaster.

"Sir, are you okay?" One of his officers asked, apparently it wasn't the first time he had asked.

"Yes, of course, I'm fine." Jacques replied. "Has there been any reports from the affected areas?"

The tension in the room spiked as the man awkwardly replied. "I'm afraid not."

Jacques slowly nodded, unsurprised. "Why are you here then?"

The man straightened up his posture. "We've prepared two plans for how to respond. These aren't particularly detailed, but they're all we had time to make."

"By all means, go ahead." Jacques said, giving the man his full attention.

"First, and the option most of us suggest, is try to negotiate better terms of surrender." The man said. "We don't know what this attack cost the enemy, but we know they have a very limited supply of manpower."

Jacques shook his head. "General Ironwood explicitly stated they were only interested in unconditional surrender, I doubt we could change that. What was our other option?"

The Officer looked at him with faintly-disguised nervousness, Jacques didn't criticize him, he felt it too. "Well, we fight. We move all of our remaining forces to the Central Distribution Center in Lampeter. There, we attempt to keep our rural mines supplied and in the fight while we try to gain additional support from our contacts in the Atlesian Military."

Jacques slowly nodded, even he could point out the obvious faults with the plan, but he had no better alternative. "We'll go with that then. Do whatever it is you have to do to win."

The man grimly nodded. "Understood, Sir."

**Point Guderian**

**October 9th, 0838 Atlas Time**

They managed to reach the surface without further incident, but by the time they left the Mineshaft, Fairfire's leg was starting to burn. They hadn't had time to remove the bullet, only stop the bleeding.

_Son of a bitch, what the hell did they shoot me with?!_ Fairfire thought, frustrated by how even the enemy's ammo was abnormal.

"Peggy, escort the packages to the Barracks. Take Meadows too, keep everyone as warm as possible while I radio in, we'll have evac shortly." Jorge instructed.

"Yes Sir." The young Helljumper replied.

Fairfire didn't know him all that well, he hadn't been part of her unit before the Battle of Hill 934, but he'd stayed strong throughout the whole mission, and that spoke volumes about the man. The other two, Kerry and Kowalski, were the only survivors of another squad from the same battle.

"Fairfire, take Yu and relieve Kowalski and Kerry. Ben, go with them, see what the prisoners know about what we found down there." Jorge instructed.

_With Pleasure._ Fairfire silently thought as she voiced her acknowledgement, limping her way over to where the prisoners were being kept.

"You alright Liz? You look terrible." Yu commented once she caught up, her voice filled with rare sympathy.

"I'm fine!" Fairfire snapped. "Let's just get this over with and go home, shall we?"

"Fine by me." Yu replied, seemingly unfazed by Fairfire's retort, Ben followed shortly behind them, still silent.

_Jesus fucking Christ, he's just a kid! _Fairfire thought, in a moment of clarity. _He's probably scarred for life at this point, with all of the shit he's seen._

When they arrived at the small dugout where the prisoners were previously kept, they only found Kerry. "Over here Sergeant, we moved them to one of the Barracks."

"Show me." She ordered dryly, not caring enough to hide the anger in her voice. To his credit, the Helljumper silently obeyed.

They followed the soldier into one of the drab grey concrete structures, finding Kowalski looking over all of the prisoners. They were all kneeling with their hands bound in one of the bedrooms, with most of the furniture that could be moved pushed into the hallway.

"You're both relieved, go see what the LT wants." Fairfire instructed. Both of the ODSTs offered her silent nods before leaving.

_Alright, let's do this._ Fairfire thought, mentally preparing herself.

With Yu by her side, she turned to face the prisoners. "Alright, how about we start really simple, who wants to give me their name?"

They were silent for a moment, but one of them eventually opened his mouth.

"I'm uh, Private Weber." One of them said. Fairfire turned to face the young man, leaning down to get a better look at him, when she realized something.

_He's the one who came out of the Mine._ Fairfire thought, immediately putting the picture together, before feeling every neural pathway in her mind ignite with anger. Whatever illusion of calmness she had before vanished instantly. "Ok, Private. Let's start with a nice, easy question. Why did you surrender to us?"

"Uh, my superior officer ordered me too?" Weber offered, but he sounded unsure of himself.

Fairfire gave a mock sigh of frustration. "You know, somehow I doubt that. You see, I just came out of the same hole in the ground that you came out of..."

Fairfire drew her sidearm and unclicked the safety. It was a subconscious action, but she did nothing to stop it. "-And there were a whole awful lot of dead, innocent people in there. You wanna know what I'm thinking, Private?"

She noticed Yu step a little closer but she remained silent. Weber's expression shifted one of shock and fear, and he didn't offer a response.

"Aww, what's the matter, you were doing so good at the beginning there, did I scare you?" Fairfire taunted. "Come on Private, ask me what I'm thinking?"

"...Wh-what are you thinking?" he meekly complied.

_What a coward._ Fairfire unsympathetically thought as she racked the slide. "I'm thinking that you don't want to meet the same fate of all those people who you butchered down there, so you came up here, hoping that you'd escape as our prisoner. Is that right?"

"I, I didn't-" Weber tried to reply, but Fairfire shut him up as she put a round through the room's sink, which exploded, scattering porcelain everywhere.

"Liz, what the fuck?!" Yu demanded, obviously shocked.

Fairfire ignored her. "You fucking coward! You won't even admit it! How can you do that?! How can you justify something like that to yourself?!"

"Liz…" Yu said quietly.

"I... I..." Weber mumbled, tears now forming.

"What did you think we're gonna do, let a murderer walk free?! Or maybe you'll even get a little show-trial from Atlas, and a pat on the back for a job well done!" Fairfire shouted, barely even aware of her surroundings.

She raised her pistol to fire, aiming it at the kid's forehead and pulling the trigger without the slightest bit of hesitation. A pair of hands pushed her arm to the side at the last second, just in time for the bullet to only graze the bastard's ear.

"Liz!" She could only faintly hear Yu, even though she was certainly yelling. She tried to take the gun from her hands but Fairfire kept her grip tight and two began to wrestle over the gun. "What the he-"

Glass broke and blood splattered across her chest before she even heard the shot. The room was silent for a moment before she saw Yu's hand come away from the hole in her chest. Her friend looked to her, before going limp and falling into her arms.

**Minutes earlier**

**Alliman Strip Mine, AKA Point Guderian**

Despite all of his failures, Major Garrett had officially accomplished his mission. Even though his situation was desperate and most of his men were dead, along with over half of the Slaves, he had seen justice enforced on the man responsible, where Atlas and the UNSC had failed, he had succeeded. He would be lying if he hadn't felt the slightest hint of satisfaction as he'd emptied Private Weber's sidearm into the Executive Manager, mere moments from reaching his airship and fleeing, but that was just the satisfaction of a job well done.

_That's all Justice is after all, it's a job, and a Huntsman is the worker._ Garrett thought, watching as the UNSC milled the slaves they had managed to save into one of the Barracks, probably trying to keep them warm until their spaceship could pick them up. _Huh, maybe those guys ain't so bad after all, not that I'm about to go say hi._

He'd managed to discreetly find himself a position on top of the Dust Refinery, from which he watched the post-battle cleanup. It seemed like the aliens had either forgotten about him, or they simply didn't care. Garrett was perfectly fine with being ignored, especially after he discovered that the UNSC had not just one, but two of the massive power-armored soldiers, one of which was apparently their leader.

_Look at the size of that weapon, that's gotta weigh sixty pounds, at least! And he's just lugging that around without an Aura?!_ Garrett thought, before sweeping his view across to the Barracks where they were keeping the prisoners they had taken.

Although his angle was pretty bad, he could still see the armored giant who had chased him earlier, silently standing. Through another window, he could see two of the black-armored soldiers talking to the prisoners, probably interrogating them. One of them was standing towards the rear with dark-purple accented armor, and the other with the red armor was-

Garrett swapped from his binoculars to his rifle scope in record time, narrowing his zoomed sights on the second soldier. They were holding a pistol, and as they racked the slide, it didn't take a genius to figure out what was happening.

_Not today you alien Bastard!_ Garrett stubbornly thought as he readied his shot. He didn't bother waiting for the bastard to aim with their pistol, he just took aim and fired. It wasn't an especially precise shot, but with Semblance at full force and his target lacking an Aura, it didn't matter.

He didn't stick around to see if his shot hit either, he got to his feet and started to run. Even if he did kill the alien, there wasn't a whole lot he could do for those soldiers now. Even if he did risk fighting all of the aliens, he would certainly lose. But he could run, take what he had learned, and try to get the information to the only person who could put it to good use.

By drawing attention to himself like he did, it might have spooked them into keeping the prisoners alive. Even if it only bought them a few minutes it was worth it. He was confident in his ability to survive, less so for those below.

_Goddamnit Ironwood, you better not be useless!_ Garrett thought, leaping off the roof and bolting for the Manager's airship.

**The UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 9th, 1332 Menagerie Time**

"All Birds are aboard, all units retrieved, and all surviving Packages are secured." Bradford reported.

_Surviving._ Richard noted the keyword sadly. "Very good. Ensign Williams, get us to Menagerie, high-altitude burn at best speed."

"Aye Sir!" the helmsman reported, moments later, the Dominion slowly shifted underfoot as she began to turn.

"Well Commander, I'll admit it, I have seen worse operations conducted under similar conditions." Winter noted, her expression somewhat uneasy. "Although it seems we've learned a bit more information than any of us truly wanted to know."

Richard felt sick, knowing about something was very different indeed than actually seeing it. "We already knew about the killing, Specialist. It's just that reading a few lines of text is a whole lot different than seeing the graves."

"We're no strangers to atrocities, Commander." Winter pointed out, the subtle jab not lost on Richard. She'd been unnervingly quiet as the reports of Fairfire's actions came in, and it wasn't hard to guess how she felt on the matter.

Bradford also noticed the double-meaning of her statement, although he was apparently more defensive on the matter. "That's funny, I can't remember the last time our soldiers killed an innocent-"

"With all due respect Lieutenant, that line of thinking is going to get us absolutely nowhere." Richard interrupted. "If we're only striving to be less awful than our enemy, we'll all be monsters by the end of the year."

Bradford remained silent, seemingly contemplating Richard's words.

"So what are you going to do about your loose cannon?" Winter asked. "Whether she was successful or not is out of the question, Lieutenant Jorge made it very clear what she was trying to do."

_And how it got one of her squad-members critically wounded._ Richard added, noting that he still hadn't gotten an update on Corporal Sato's condition. "It's not much of a choice, frankly. Without the resources for a proper tribunal, we'll have to judge her under wartime standards."

Winter was silent for a moment. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

"The three highest ranking officers examine all of the evidence in question, before deciding upon the verdict. At least two of the officers in question must agree on the judgement." Bradford explained. "It's a flawed, faulty system, but it's meant to be quick, not thorough."

Winter slowly nodded. "I suppose that means you have yet another big decision to make, I hope you give it the thought it deserves."

"I don't intend to make any decisions on this matter until at the very least we reach Menagerie, we have other concerns at the moment." Richard said, turning to Bradford. "Kindly fetch yourself a copy of Staff Sergeant Fairfire's record, and send another to Lieutenant Clark."

"Clark?" Bradford asked, but quickly caught himself. "Aye Sir. Shall I grab one for you as well?"

"Don't bother, I've read through it already." Richard replied. "It's odd really, this is the first time she's done something like this, the rest of her record is littered with ringing endorsements from some high places."

Winter suddenly frowned, as if his words had triggered some kind of thought. "Surely it can't be too absurd. The stresses of war, let alone the… atrocities, must have some kind of impact, no?

"War is war, stress is an understatement," Richard brought a hand to his forehead and sighed. "but soldiers are expected to keep going despite that. Fairfire has never shown any signs of PTSD nor any other mental illness."

"So this is the first time something like this has happened for her, a sudden emotional shift in the field?"

"To my knowledge, yes." Richard replied. "Why, did you suspect something else might be at play?"

"Such a sudden shift is strange, and as you've said, uncharacteristic." Winter's scowl barely moved as she spoke. "It could be stress, or some kind of mental issues, but perhaps it could be related to her Semblance."

Richard and Bradford were immediately confused. "None of our soldiers on the ground for that mission have an active Aura."

"She might not need it." Winter explained. "Everyone has a Semblance, even if their Aura isn't active, it's tied directly to your soul. Some Semblances do not require an activated Aura to function, they're simply always active."

"Goddamn it, and here I was thinking that I had all of this figured out..." Bradford muttered.

"So you think it's possible that she was under the influence of a Semblance, without even realizing it?" Richard asked, wondering if Remnant had more insidious ways of getting under a person's skin.

"I certainly think it's possible, but I'm far from certain." Winter answered. "In my experience, Semblances can be volatile and overwhelm the user, but it is also possible she simply snapped under the pressure. Either way, your Sergeant is just as accountable for her actions as the people sitting in your brig."

Richard struggled internally. He knew better than to latch onto the easy answer and hate 'it's her sembalnce's fault' line would surely not stop the people of Remnant. Still, it gave him some level of hope that his soldiers might not have been mentally falling apart under the strain. In fact, the more he thought about it the more it started to make sense.

Fairfire was a soldier, she had seen war in all its _glory_. That she would crack so easily spoke of something strange at play. Richard sighed. Speculation didn't matter however, and he wouldn't excuse her actions.

"I believe I understand." Richard said, well aware that Fairfire would still need to be reprimanded for her crimes. "Could you possibly help us with a proper investigation in the future? You are the only person on this ship with any sort of experience in this field."

"I see no reason why not, but I can make no promise of success. Some Semblances are subtle enough to go unnoticeable and it's possible I am wrong entirely, but I will do what I can to aid you." Winter stated, before quickly adding more to her response. "On one condition. If it is her Semblance that's responsible, you do not deploy her into further action until she is trained to control it."

Richard nodded slowly, that was a very reasonable request. "Done, thank you, Specialist."

"Think nothing of it." Winter replied. "You should also know, Semblances can be... unfair. As your Aura's become activated, many of you will likely never find yours."

"Don't worry, we're used to things being unfair." Richard said, thinking again about all of the good people no doubt still battling the Covenant back home.

"But they can be worse than that. It is fully possible you may find them more a hindrance than an asset." Winter continued. "You've said that where you come from, Aura and Semblances don't exist. It's very possible that suddenly having them could pose a number of risks beyond just physical difficulties to adapt." She gestured to the side. "This being one such example."

"So now I have to worry about magic breaking my soldiers?" Richard sighed. "Just one more thing we can't control."

"It is far from magic, commander, and it can be controlled." Winter paused. "With proper training."

"Training we are unlikely to get, once news breaks out about what almost happened." Richard said, hoping to gain some insight into what Remnant's response might be. Winter stayed silent and his hope dropped just a little bit further.

**Atlas Academy**

**October 9th, 1453 Atlas Time, 2552**

General Ironwood was just as concerned about the failures of his military's intelligence as he was about the massive UNSC operation that had swept across rural Mantle. It took hours for reconnaissance and operatives to piece together everything that was happening, not helped in the least that both the SDC and UNSC offered their own conflicting explanations as to what was occurring. It had also taken the UNSC an hour to respond, which did nothing to ease his paranoia about Atlas's still-largely unknown "ally".

Winter had contacted him before he had gotten to contact her, and explained that they had finally launched the massive military operation they had been planning. While he had already been aware that the UNSC were making plans, as Winter had told him, he'd kept the information to himself. He was well aware that many members of the Atlesian military harbored sympathies towards the SDC, especially with the reports of slavery being deeply contested by the media.

The last thing he needed was to give the UNSC even a shred of evidence that he was undermining them, which would have undoubtedly catastrophic ramifications not just for him, but for Atlas. This dedication to secrecy went so far as to have Winter's assignment remain strictly classified, even the Atlesian Council didn't know that they had someone aboard the Dominion.

_And it shall stay that way, until this pointless conflict is over._ Ironwood thought. Although he personally sympathized with the UNSC's desire to liberate the slaves, they were decidedly unsubtle in their methods.

The show of force was not lost on him, the UNSC had clearly thrown everything they had into the operation, which was authenticated by Winter. Ironwood had expected the UNSC to keep to hit-and-run attacks with their small force, not to risk full-scale maneuver warfare. They had no reservations with the deployment of armored-fighting vehicles or attack aircraft either, and they had disposed of any resistance with ruthless efficiency. The SDC chain of command had panicked so badly that a nearby Railway Station owned by the Company was wiped out by the resulting Grimm attack, the UNSC had achieved yet another victory without even trying.

Any information acquired from said Corporation was sporadic and nonsensical. They reported that the UNSC had tamed Grimm, operated handheld weaponry that melted cleanly through Aura, and even that individual soldiers had literally fallen from space to attack them. Ironwood was quick to doubt most of it, but wondered if some of the irrational claims held a grain of truth to them. The claim that they were killing prisoners ran contrary to what Ironwood had seen previously, but he was still worried nonetheless.

_Perhaps a more thorough investigation wouldn't hurt._ Ironwood thought, sending a quick but authoritative email to the Head of Intelligence.

By far the most dramatic part of the battle was the UNSC Dominion itself, or the "Alien Mothership" as some sensationalist news outlets dubbed it. Winter stated that it attracted a Class-Five attack from airborne Grimm, which it had effortlessly obliterated with tertiary weapons. They had then dispatched four of their own fighters to destroy a dozen Atlesian Gunships under the helm of the SDC, they did not suffer a single casualty. The most terrifying thing that they accomplished was the destruction of a trio of Atlesian Cruisers with a single shot from their primary cannon.

Winter explained the event in far better detail than the poor-resolution footage he had. She described it as a colossal shotgun, spinally mounted, that ran the length of almost a third of the entire ship, and it had performed the act at half of its maximum power. The upper appendage of the ship's frontal section apparently housed the massive weapon, giving him a worrying sense of scale. In terms of sheer scale, the weapon rivaled most airships, in terms of destructive firepower, it was truly unmatched.

_I believe that I initially underestimated just what Commander Richard meant when he said "Weapons of Mass Destruction"._ Ironwood thought grimly, watching the low-res footage of the encounter. The fireball that had been produced by the formerly Atlesian vessel, the A.A.S Valiant, was so large that it had engulfed its sister ships momentarily. _He wasn't exaggerating when he said he could blow Atlas out of the sky..._

Even if it wasn't technically in the hands of the actual military, it was still deeply alarming to see Atlas's equipment, even entire airships, torn apart with such ease. If things had proceeded even slightly differently, it could very well be Huntsmen and Huntresses meeting such a brutal fate. He was not alone in that line of thought, as the media criticized the UNSC for their flagrant and destructive display of power.

_If Atlas performed a display like that, we would be called warmongers. _Ironwood critically thought, noting the lack of even a single survivor aboard all three ships. _Even if they were acting in self defense, I find it difficult to justify the use of such a brutish weapon against other humans. I'm not sure if I want to know what else they have in that ship..._

Regardless, Ironwood was not about to make an ill-planned or thought out decision. For now, he would play along and focus on the defense of Atlas, but he would be watching the UNSC like a hawk. Ironwood had managed to get Lieutenant Thomas to agree to the conditions outlined in the Vacuo Accord, which effectively prevented any form of assault on civilians or their property. While the SDC and their Facilities obviously fell outside of this classification, it offered Ironwood something that he could use against them should the UNSC choose a regrettable plan of action.

He would also start looking into just how the SDC had gotten it's hands on three state-of-the-art Atlesian Warships. The failures of his nation's military intelligence apparently surpassed even his worst fears, and that was going to change, now. Even if he had to Court-Martial a third of his force, he would no longer tolerate disloyalty amongst the ranks of the Armed Forces, especially the Officers.

_Maybe it's finally time I gave Ozpin another call, he'll know how to go about this._ Ironwood thought, well aware of the man's ample experience in political maneuvering


	35. Chapter 35

**The UNSC Dominion, Sick Bay**

**October 9th, 1802 Menagerie Time**

Fairfire sat in the waiting room anxiously, noting it's strange emptiness. Her leg wound was not bad enough to justify giving her a hospital bed, as there were too few to go around, considering how many people needed them. As soon as they finished unloading the liberated Slaves however, the Doctor had said she would get one, not that she cared. She was so utterly emotionally drained and filled with guilt that she hadn't even realized they'd landed at Menagerie in the first place

At long last, Jorge walked into the room and called her name. Immediately she sprang out of her chair, her leg protesting with the effort. "Is she alright?! Will she-"

"Sit." He coldly instructed, after a painful bit of effort bending her knee, she complied. "Corporal Sato is still in surgery. The Doctors are trying to stitch together enough of her lung to keep her alive while they clone her a new one, nobody is sure if she'll live. Personally, I think she'll make it, but I'm not a doctor."

Even though she expected it, Fairfire flinched with the news. She knew what was coming next, and to be honest, she knew she deserved it. The only reason that Yu had gotten shot was because she'd tried to stop Fairfire from executing a prisoner. Her armor's resilience had saved her from most of the shock of the impact, but the bullet had splintered into fragments, and torn multiple holes in her left lung. Biofoam was the only thing that had stopped her from drowning in her own blood.

"But that's not relevant right now, you have other concerns." Jorge coldly stated. "I've had a look at your file, throughout the whole thing, there was nothing similar to what you tried to do today."

Fairfire nodded, letting him continue.

"You made your motives pretty clear, at least, according to what your helmet camera recorded." Jorge added. "But that doesn't tell me why you tried to take justice into your own hands."

Fairfire took a deep breath, honesty would probably go a long way here. "I-I… I thought he was… he came from the mines! I thought he was involved with what we… with what happened to the…" She couldn't bring herself to say it, the memory alone making her sick.

"So you were just going to kill a man, a prisoner, in cold blood?" Jorge finished.

"He never would have gotten a fair trial in Atlas!" Fairfire yelled in protest, only dampening her voice because of the other patients in the next room over. "They've turned a blind eye to this for years, you know that!"

Jorge stared at her totally expressionless, even without his helmet, it was looking at a visor. "Is that all?"

Fairfire looked at him, confused. "What do you mean?"

"Is that all there is to it? That you simply lacked faith in the Atlesian Justice System?" Jorge asked, now looking quite frustrated. "Or did you lack faith in your squad, in me, and in the Commander and the rest of the crew? Did you just assume that we would bend the knee and let justice go unserved? We are fighting this war for a reason you know."

Fairfire stared at him, unsure of what to say, he was right.

"If you have a concern, I advise you to privately discuss it with me in the future." Jorge stated. "But right now, we need to deal with the fact that you have committed a War Crime. You have single-handedly painted a target on our backs, all that fear and hate the people of Atlas had aimed at us, is now justified!"

Fairfire did not break eye contact, she knew what she had done, and she would face the consequences.

"Since we lack the resources to assemble a tribunal, your disciplinary action was decided by the Commander, the Executive Officer, and Lieutenant Clark." Jorge stated dispassionately.

Fairfire tensed up slightly, she hadn't exactly made a good impression on any of those people, hopefully, that didn't influence their decision.

"You have been demoted to Corporal, you are to replace your patches as soon as you are discharged from Sickbay." Jorge said, without sympathy. "The next six months of your base pay will be docked and will go to cover psychiatric costs for Private Weber. You will also be required to report to Sickbay once per week for your own psychiatric-evaluation, for at least the next three months."

Fairfire was somewhat surprised by how lenient they'd been, although it wasn't hard to guess why they'd gone so soft on her.

"Were it not for our complicated situation and shortage of manpower, you would have been discharged, at the very least." Jorge added, confirming her suspicions. "Do you understand?"

Fairfire choked up her words in response, but succeeded the second time. "Yes Sir. Who will be your new Second in Command?"

"Sergeant Meadows, once he leaves Sick Bay." Jorge answered.

Fairfire nodded, Meadows would make a good replacement for her role. "Was that all, Sir?"

"Almost." Jorge answered, his expression completely unreadable. "You are to continue to wait here until you are admitted into Sickbay. Once you have recovered enough for light duties, Specialist Schnee will be here to speak with you. Orders from on high are to follow her instructions to the letter. You'll be her problem for the foreseeable future."

Fairfire was very confused by his statement. "I'm not sure I understand, Sir."

"You'll have to ask her yourself, I know as much as you do." Jorge said. "If that was all Corporal, I'll be on my way."

With his message delivered, the Spartan left. Fairfire sat in silence, wondering if she even had the right to feel remorse for what she'd done. Despite her utter misery, she didn't shed a single tear, and she didn't know why.

**Menagerie Trans-Continental Airport, Terminal**

**October 9th, 1830 Menagerie Time**

The soft dribble of rain highlighted the oddities of Remnant's weather. The rain did little to obstruct the efforts of the Marines and Corpsmen who carried wounded and sick Slaves out of the underslung hangar of the Dominion, before moving them to the small airport's Terminal.

The terminal building of the airport had been converted into a temporary triage center, holding those patients who were to make the journey to the hospitals. It matched much of the surrounding architecture, which meant it featured multiple large rooms, each with a multitude of entryways, ideal for an emergency field hospital.

_I wonder if that's intentional._ Richard grimly thought, the mixed results of the mission weighing heavily on his mindset. Through the large ornamental windows of the building, Richard could see the Dominion parked on the runway, taking up nearly half of the airstrip with its frame. The ground it rested on wasn't stable enough to hold the ship's colossal mass, so the ship's antigrav systems remained functional at low power, helping to offset the immense pressure on the ground.

"You were not joking. You've certainly made a big impression." Ghira commented as he entered the building. Richard noted he had left his Guards behind, which was a welcome display of trust. "I can certainly understand why the media is so interested in getting footage while they can. I knew your ship was large, but seeing it in person is completely different."

"I've felt the same way about a lot of things, some good, some bad." Richard replied. "But we should stay focused, we have some important matters to discuss."

Ghira nodded. "We certainly do, but before we do that, I need to ask, what are your plans for the immediate future?"

His concern was justified, it was always important to stay up to speed on your ally's next move. "We'll unload all of your people, and make sure everybody is stable. But once that's done, we're going back up to Solitas, we still need to end this war."

Ghira seemed somewhat surprised by his response, even somewhat displeased. "Are you sure? Everything I've heard seems to suggest that the SDC is still recoiling from your operation, you may have already won."

Richard felt bad putting down the man's optimism, but it was necessary. He needed everyone on his side to be up to date on the situation, and dispel any false information.

"We gave them a crippling blow, but not a knockout punch. We may have won a critical victory, but the price we paid isn't going to be easy to recover from either, we'll need to proceed with extra caution from now on." Richard stated.

"Do your people need anything?" Ghira immediately offered. "I recognize that we may not have the resources of somewhere like Atlas, but that doesn't mean we can't help."

Richard recognized it would be downright insulting to say no, even if most of the things that they needed weren't able to be offered by anyone on Remnant. Plus, he wasn't really in a position to be denying any sort of assistance.

_Especially manpower._ Richard sadly thought, well aware that those few deaths that they had suffered wouldn't be replaceable for the foreseeable future. He had already considered recruiting the locals in the future, and they had taken in the technicians from the Relay Station, but they were essentially just civilian contractors, not personnel. There were many other problems regarding recruitment that they would need to overcome.

Remnant's low population and a poor education system lowered the amount of people eligible for service dramatically. That was before you even factored in recent events that were bound to make it to the mainstream news sooner or later. The people wouldn't trust them if they thought they were out to murder defenceless people. Even if people overlooked that, or they somehow managed to mend relations with the public, those potential recruits would then be forced to ask a very tough question. Who could they really trust?

Even if people wanted to join the risk was high, any potential recruits could have a million different loyalties that they didn't know about. They would be forced to vet every potential recruit beyond anything they usually did back home. The people from Menagerie were their best bet but it was still a long time out. He'd have to get Curie to start looking for potential recruits soon.

"Well, this might sound a bit odd, but it turns out most of our coffee expired years ago, that and the tea." Richard said. "Honestly, just anything that our cooks need, they're in a little over their heads right now. Although I'm sure they'll be happy to bring you up to date on modern food preservation and preparation in exchange."

"That shouldn't be too much of a problem." Ghira said after a moment's thought. "We've still got a portion of our yearly budget that we've been saving for a rainy day, but this seems as good a use as any. And finding locally-grown food shouldn't be an issue."

"Thank you." Richard said, hoping he came across as genuinely as he intended. "I know that the results of our operation were probably below your expectations-"

"Not at all." Ghira interrupted. "We would never have even known about this whole situation in the first place without you, and we certainly couldn't have mustered such an effective response."

Richard was deeply grateful for the man's comments, it was good to know that at least some people on Remnant understood why they had acted. "Thank you. Although with the benefit of hindsight, I'm starting to wonder if we've handled this correctly. Perhaps if we had enforced better cooperation with Atlas, we could've handled this similarly to how we did back home."

Ghira seemed surprised. "You had slavery where you come from?"

"Rarely, it seems that some people never seemed to get the memo, about our common humanity and all that." Richard answered, somewhat bitterly. "A little over a decade ago, I was a part of a task force putting down an Insurrection in the Epsilon Eridani system. Most of the UNSC was out on the frontlines, trying to fight off the Covenant, and their absence gave rise to some... extremism, on the home front."

"Humanity didn't unite against the Covenant?" Ghira seemed surprised.

"We did, most of us anyway. Once the Covenant showed up, almost all of the Insurrectionists threw in alongside us, but some others were less cooperative. You see, the Insurrectionists weren't just one big organization like the UNSC, but a loose alliance of a lot of smaller groups." Richard explained, recognizing a bit of background information was necessary for Ghira to understand what he was talking about.

Ghira seemed somewhat disturbed, but Richard brushed it off, assuming that internal squabbles were just something Remnant didn't do much anymore. With the Grimm as a common enemy, it would be easier to look past the differences of one another. Although, he became more curious as the expression didn't falter.

Despite his curiosity, Richard continued. "I remember one of the Carriers, the UNSC Constable, was actually crewed by a lot of former Innies. When some of their Marines came across some of the Insurrectionists on the ground, it was an absolute massacre for everyone involved."

Richard thought back, remembering just how utterly demolished the landscape of the battle had been. Cluster Artillery and Flamethrowers had created a landscape that rivaled the Covenant in terms of sheer devastation. "It was like one of the old Earth Civil Wars, where brother fought against brother... it was brutal. We only found out the Innies had slaves after the fight was over... but none of them lived that long."

Ghira still seemed somewhat disturbed, but he nodded anyway, taking in Richard's words. "I don't envy you having to go through with something like this twice. It's certainly a testament to you and your crew that you're willing to do this, even despite what you've seen."

"We've got a lot more to do here, hopefully with less violence involved." Richard thought, before a stray thought hit him like a comet, and he remembered something incredibly crucial. "Actually, now that I think about it, there is something else that you could do to help us. Although I'll admit, this is likely to be controversial, at least among the other Kingdoms."

"By all means, state it." Ghira prompted.

Richard took a deep, nervous breath. "My Marines need Auras, badly. Our armor managed to stop most of the wounds from being fatal, but we can't keep-"

"Say no more, it's done." Ghira mercifully interrupted. "I am not going to let any sort of political pressure from Atlas or otherwise get in the way of helping our allies."

_Thank god._ Richard thought, letting out the breath he had been holding. "Thank you. Our technology might offer us an edge, but even the best armor has its faults..."

"Well from now on, you won't need to worry about that." Ghira promised. "There's a few Huntsmen and Huntresses that reside in Menagerie, I'm sure they'll be willing to help your soldiers with their Auras once I ask. You've also made a great impression among the Guards, so they'll certainly be happy to help as well."

Richard gave a smile. "That's good, that's very good to hear. How long will they need to train to use them?"

Ghira thought for a moment. "If you want them to be able to subconsciously project a defensive shield, that could take months, but simply how to use it to mitigate some of their wounds only a couple weeks. But if you took someone along with you to train them aboard your ship..."

Richard nodded with understanding. "Good thinking, it's about high time I accepted an envoy from you regardless. Did you have someone in mind?"

"Margaret." Ghira immediately said. "You've worked with her before, when you needed someone to help with your crash site. She also has a great deal of knowledge on all things naval, although I'm not sure how well that skillset will translate from a regular ship to a starship."

"A good fit for the job then." Richard said, extending his hand. "Well, thank you Chieftain, your assistance will not be forgotten."

The man shook his hand. "Nor will yours."

**Beacon Academy, Headmaster Ozpin's Office**

**1150 Vale Time, 2552**

_This is not how I expected this morning to go._ Ozpin privately thought, as he listened to General Ironwood relay everything that he knew about the recent battle that had taken place in his Kingdom. He'd been able to offer far more insight into the events than Vale's media organizations had, and what he had to say gave Ozpin some reason to be concerned.

"-Their ship has a weapon like nothing I've ever seen." Ironwood explained, even though his demeanor was outwardly calm, Ozpin could sense the beginnings of panic within him. "They destroyed three Cruisers with a single shot. It fired clusters of darts made out of some sort of dense metal that we're still trying to identify. They traveled so fast, they tore through the shields with barely any effort, and then the rest of the ships!"

Ozpin deliberately picked the most relevant piece of information, although the details on the Alien weapon were also welcome. "Why were they fighting your Cruisers, General?"

"They... were commandeered, by the Schnee Dust Company." Ironwood awkwardly replied.

Ozpin put his mug of hot cocoa down and pinched the bridge of his forehead with immense frustration. "James, those are warships, not some insignificant piece of equipment. How did they manage to steal even a single one, let alone three of them?"

Ironwood took a deep breath. "Ozpin, you know as well as I do that Atlas has a lot of... misguided people."

"Traitors." Ozpin calmly interjected. "Misguided or not, their actions take precedence over their beliefs."

Ironwood gave a nod of affirmation before continuing. "The Military isn't exempt from that, and their sympathies must've been stronger than their loyalties."

"On the contrary General, these actions prove their loyalty, it just wasn't towards Atlas." Ozpin pointed out, stifling his frustration as best as he could. "I assume you've arrested those responsible?"

"Most of them went down with their ships, actually, and no, there weren't any survivors." Ironwood answered. "Those who didn't have so far evaded our efforts to arrest them. But we're not going to give up, we'll find them."

Ozpin noticed the doubt in his voice. "You don't sound very certain..."

"I have my own reservations, but loyalty to Atlas is not optional, I will see this done." Ironwood said, and Ozpin could see that he was speaking genuinely. Still, if Ironwood had doubts, Ozpin wanted to know about them.

"I appreciate that, and I know Atlas will as well. But you certainly have no sympathy for Jacques Schnee and his motives, why are you uncertain about this course of action?" Ozpin asked, wondering what aspects of the situation he wasn't seeing.

"It would leave Altas vulnerable, an investigation like this is going to cost resources, more than we can spare at the moment." Ironwood bluntly stated.

_His mind is in the right place, good._ Ozpin thought, deeply relieved.

"The amount of people, money, and time that this is going to take... we simply can't spare it at the moment. Maybe if the SDC relented, but I don't see that happening anytime soon." Ironwood concluded. "I know that the rest of the world is seeing the Grimm spike start to flatten, but Atlas hasn't seen that yet."

"And you believe that the Queen would strike while you were vulnerable." Ozpin finished. Salem would almost certainly strike at the opportunity, although probably not as directly as Ironwood thought she might.

_She's more insidious than that, far more interested in picking us apart from the inside. More importantly, she's smart enough to have reservations about committing large amounts of her forces to a single engagement._ Ozpin thought.

Ironwood nodded. "The Grimm have already been... erratic, acting far wilder. I would almost say it's like she hasn't been controlling them directly, but I'm not sure if I believe that. I've already had to divert more forces than I would like from Argus..."

Ozpin reached for his mug again. "She's not that direct. She's never risked an outward strike against a major city like that before, and she wouldn't, not without a very good reason."

"That's no reason not to be prepared." Ironwood protested. "And let's not forget about the UNSC, with them running wild, my options are limited."

"They aren't the enemy, James." Ozpin gently said. Although he still had his own doubts about the alien military, he was starting to put a bit more faith in them. While their initial interaction with the people of Remnant had been violent, he was under the impression that their actions were justified, further solidified when Ironwood announced that they were to be allowed to conduct their campaign against the SDC, although it was common knowledge by now that the 'cooperation' that took place between the Atlesian Military and UNSC was borderline nonexistent.

_I know that particular move has cost him a lot of political favors._ Ozpin thought, noting that perhaps it shouldn't have come as such a surprise that Ironwood was losing men and ships.

"Their use of that weapon was a show of force!" Ironwood protested. "More people than just the military are worried, the Media has been stirring up a storm! They should have know what kind of panic that kind of weapon would have-"

"General, hindsight is useful, but not essential." Ozpin interrupted. "Think for a moment, clear your mind, and look past your own personal fears."

Ironwood did as he asked, but was clearly still tense. "I'm not afraid of them, I'm afraid of what they're capable of. If they cause a big enough panic, we could be knocked on our back foot."

"What motive could they have? Ozpin asked. "They didn't release all of the files from the SDC, knowing very well that those emotions would cause casualties. We can both see what that's already cost them in terms of their reputation, it's why this conflict is controversial in the first place."

Ironwood sighed in reluctant agreement. "We should still exercise some caution, even if we do intend to let the UNSC make a mess of the countryside."

"Perhaps they just need some guidance." Ozpin argued. "To them, our world is no-doubt just as Alien as we see them. Perhaps if you coordinated your efforts better, you might be able to put these squabbles aside."

Ironwood seemed doubtful. "I wish I could share your enthusiasm. You've spoken to their leader, right?"

"Commander Richard." Ozpin confirmed with a nod.

"Then you probably picked up on the same things I did." Ironwood said. "He's... unusual, I've never met another Officer quite like him."

"He is an Alien." Ozpin pointed out.

"Besides that, you know what I mean!" Ironwood protested. "He's blunt, surprisingly inelegant, and very focused, and it's not just him. It seems like almost everything under his command follows that same doctrine of simplicity and overwhelming force."

Ozpin thought for a moment, Ironwood's observations did line up with what he had seen so far. The UNSC were far from crude or barbaric, despite how they may have seemed at a glance. In actuality, they were ruthlessly simple, focused almost single-mindedly on their task at hand, while quickly adapting to developing situations. _You can learn a lot from a person's mindset, and it seems that applies to the UNSC as well._

"What do you need from me, General?" Ozpin asked, deciding to try to see where Ironwood was going with this. "I appreciate your update on the situation, but I imagine that's not why you called me."

"I wanted to know what you think I should do. You have more experience in diplomacy than anyone else on Remnant." Ironwood answered. "I can't promise I'll take your advice, but I want your input, just to help me try to understand them."

Ozpin nodded as he thought of how to word it. "I was reminded of the people of Vacuo when I first heard about them. Chieftain Belladonna contacted me almost immediately after the Relay Station on Menagerie was brought back online, and he warned me that the UNSC was already fighting a war back home.

"The Covenant, I've heard about them." Ironwood noted. "But why the Comparison to Vacuo?"

"Because they share the same thing, stubborn resilience." Ozpin answered. "If their Commander is to be believed, tens of billions of humans have died so far in this conflict. Worlds have been scorched to the point of being uninhabitable, and the alien menace shows no signs of relenting. That kind of environment raises a very different kind of person, General, and we should account for that."

"I understand." Ironwood said, much to Ozpin's relief. "On the note of the Covenant, Winter says they have an Alien aboard their ship. It's not a Human or a Faunus, it's something else."

"Is she still collecting intelligence?" Ozpin asked. "Where did she learn that?"

Ironwood took a deep breathe, before examining something on his computer. "Sorry, just double checking our security, this is something that we cannot risk going public yet."

Ozpin nodded, he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"Winter is currently stationed aboard their ship, the Dominion, where she is acting as a line of communication and a military advisor." Ironwood explained. "I managed to convince them to let her aboard, albeit, I may have had to stretch the truth a little in the process."

"In what manner?" Ozpin asked, more curious than anything. Ironwood's diplomatic accomplishment nullified any unease he might have felt.

"I told them that the Council insisted, when in reality, nobody else knows but you and me." Ironwood answered. "The most important part is that she is aboard their ship. Some of the intelligence she has secured and negotiated for so far is invaluable."

"Such as?" Ozpin prompted, incredibly curious.

Ironwood sent a file of information, along with a single picture. "For starters, that picture is of the Alien, they call it an 'Elite'."

Ozpin was rather taken aback by the creature he saw, it was far larger and more intimidating than he had expected. It was vaguely reptilian, but it was also immediately apparent to Ozpin that it was quite unlike anything on Remnant. "Oh."

"I won't lie, that was my reaction too." Ironwood sympathetically added. "The file contains a set of UNSC encryption algorithms well in excess of anything we can produce on Remnant. I would strongly encourage you to begin upgrading Beacon's systems, although I recognize that it might take you some time... my engineers did their best, but the original file took up four storage drives."

Ozpin nodded, noting that it would take at least a day for the file to finish downloading. "This is quite the surprise."

"I meant to tell you earlier-" Ironwood began.

"No, that's not what I meant." Ozpin interrupted, not interested in the General's excuses. "I meant it seems a bit unusual for you to put so much trust into this bit of software, considering your outlook on the UNSC. What makes you feel differently about this, why trust them with Winter's safety?"

"Because it came from Winter, and she wouldn't send me anything that posed a risk to Atlas's safety. As for Winter, I have no doubt she could fight her way off of the ship if she needed too." Ironwood answered. "I've also had my best man in this field have a look at it, and he says it's far from malicious."

Ozpin nodded, Ironwood had clearly had the same doubts that he had. "So even in the face of this massive boost to your national security, you still think they're trying to undermine you?"

"I..." Ironwood trailed off. "That's not what I mean!"

"If we don't even try to work with them, we can't expect any kind of positive outcome." Ozpin pressed. "Putting trust in them is a risk, I recognize that, but it's surely better than the alternatives."

"...And if they do end up working against us, what do we do then?" Ironwood asked.

Ozpin recognized that Ironwood was right, a backup plan was a wise thing to have. "Then we do what we have done in the past, General. We eliminate the threat to mankind's survival, by any means necessary. But hopefully it won't come to that."

Ironwood's expression seemed even stonier than normal. "Hopefully."

**UNSC Dominion, Junction B, Deck Four**

**October 9th, 1930 Menagerie Time, 2552**

Ben couldn't stop thinking about the mission, about what he had seen. Jorge's advice had helped somewhat, but he still found himself constantly reminded, even by the smallest of things. To combat this, he did what he had learned to do in the past, distract himself with whatever tasks he could find.

"Ben, what are we doing here?" Curie asked, noticing that Ben had turned to enter the Brig.

"I'm going to ask Set a question." Ben answered as he opened the door, the Marine on watch waving him through without even checking his clearance.

"Well we should be quick. We may have some time to kill before Mags gets here, but-" Curie warned.

Ben got a look at the SDC Specialist he had taken down during the battle at Point Wilhelm, who was playing cards with some of the other prisoners. "Don't worry Curie, I'm not going to be long."

When Ben finally got a good look at Set, it was apparent that he had been rather busy. His cell featured a good deal of his drawings now taped to the wall, as well as a not-inconsiderable amount of rolled-up paper balls haphazardly chucked into the trash bin in the corner. He was continuing his work on a larger illustration, and he had found a more inventive way to hold his pencil with his alien hands, allowing for improved stability.

Set didn't look up from his work as Ben entered, only stopping once he had finished the specific segment he was focusing on. From what Ben could see, it was an illustration of a very elaborate symbol. "What is that?"

Set seemed surprised to hear his voice. "I did not expect you to return, have you come to ask more pointless questions?"

"There's no such thing as a pointless question." Ben indirectly answered. "Questions are fundamental to communication in any field, be it military, artistic, or civilian. There is a justification even for the dumbest of questions."

Set sighed. "Very well, let me give it a try. What do you want, Demon?"

"I want to know what you're drawing." Ben stated, it seemed like the Elite was almost finished with the symbol, and was now focusing on the smaller details. It was intricate, and made up of many different lines forming a complex formation.

The Elite huffed with disappointment, and a hint of surprise. "Either you are ignorant or simply imperceptive. Regardless, on this one matter, I see no harm in educating you."

_That's an extremely sharp shift in tone from everything we know about Elites, even Set._ Ben thought, but remained silent.

Set held up the paper, allowing Ben to take a better look. "This is an ancient, holy symbol, called the Eld. The Gods used it to signify matters of politics and warfare, as evidenced by the installations we've found in the past, as part of a philosophy that they called the 'Mantlepiece of Authority', or at least, that's our best translation. I would have anticipated you to know that much, at the very least."

Ben chuckled. "Well, there's a lot of things we don't know. Still, you've got me curious, why tell me this?"

Set placed his creation back on the floor. "The Gods have no interest in you, the Hierarchs have made that abundantly clear. I tell you this information because in your hands, it is meaningless."

_That excuse is a bit... flimsy._ Ben noted, wondering exactly what the Elite was playing at, although he wouldn't push his luck. "I see. Now, I actually came down here with another question in mind."

"Speak, and I shall consider gracing you with an answer." Set gave a disinterested wave of his hand.

"Why are your people Warriors?" Ben asked.

Set made a noise that Ben wasn't entirely sure how to interpret, sounding like some form of grumbling. "Why are Sangheili... Warriors?"

"Everything that we know about you states that you've been Warriors for longer than you've been in the Covenant." Ben stated. "I'm not asking for a history lesson, I want to know what gave your people that inspiration to conduct warfare with such dedication in the first place."

Set stared blankly at him for a few moments, before blinking. "I suppose in that context, your question makes a considerable degree more sense. Although in return for your answer, I would ask for you to answer another question for me. Like yours, it is of insight and curiosity, not any military value."

Ben thought for a moment, deciding that Set's cooperation was worth a single insignificant question, depending on what it was. "What's your question?"

"Throughout every conversation I have had with you, you have not once rejected the Title of Demon." Set pointed out. "Why not?"

Ben thought for a moment, it was an admittedly good question, one that he had not previously given any considerable thought. Coming up with an answer was surprisingly difficult, as he was forced to discard many incorrect guesses.

"Stubbornness, both from you, and from me." Ben eventually replied.

"Explain." Set said.

"If I told you to stop calling me Demon, you wouldn't, you're stubborn." Ben pointed out, to which Set chuckled. "As for me, well..."

He thought about how to word it, but eventually decided some extra context would help. "...It's like you said yourself, it might be an insult, but it has its roots in an odd sort of respect. This might come as a surprise to you, but Humanity believed in Demons a long time before we believed in a lot of other things."

Set huffed. "You were not alone in that, superstition stretches all the way from the Unggoy to the Prophets."

_I wonder if he slagged off the Prophets this much when he wasn't our prisoner._ Ben thought, but decided not to voice that observation.

Ben continued. "Demons became associated with difficulty, strife, pain, and misery, as you would expect. So when you call a Spartan a Demon, you're just telling them that they're doing their job well."

Set hummed in deep thought. "That is an interesting answer. I believe that it was actually the Prophets themselves who first coined the term "Demon" to refer to your ilk, either them or an imaginative Unggoy. I do know that it was in part associated with the childish belief that a dead Demon is simply recovered, their body resurrected, and the Demon redeployed, which is almost certainly the Unggoy's contribution."

Ben wished he could laugh at that, but too many Spartans had died for it to even be remotely funny. Still, he had upheld his end of the bargain, now it was Set's turn. "And what about the Sangheili? What about warfare intrigued you so deeply that it influences you so deeply."

"Well for one thing, war was common. Sanghelios is not a kind planet by any measure, and resource scarcities led to conflict." Set stated. "War was always present during the early formations of our culture, of our society, is it really any surprise that we decided to improve our talents, to perfect warfare?"

"I suppose not." Ben answered. "although I'm not sure if you can perfect warfare."

"Nonsense." Set grumbled. "Warfare is a form of art, much like drawing is, or sculpting. But it is more than a humble craft, it is the source of a Warrior's Honor, of any Sangheili's self-pride. It is a source of wisdom and knowledge so great, the gods themselves studied it."

Ben nodded, it made sense that their religion would play a factor in the matter. It was also interesting to hear it referred to as a form of art, much like Humanity sometimes did.

"I strongly suspect that even if Humanity does survive this war, you will feel the same way, or at least better understand us." Set concluded. "There, I hope that satisfies your curiousity, do you have any more stupid questions?"

Set's offhanded mention of the war had triggered his unpleasant memories again. Rather than snuff them out, Ben decided to try to get one more answer out of Set using them.

"Just one." Ben replied. "What about atrocity, about when civilians get involved in war?"

"The Prophets do not care for your occupation, they merely want you dead." Set stated.

"Then don't think of it as an atrocity between Humans and Sangheili, think of it as a conflict between Sangheili, what about then?"

"Warfare isn't perfect, Demon, you should know that." Set growled. "There is no honour to be found in killing those who never had the chance to fight back." He paused for a moment. "Except for when the Prophets will it."

"The Prophets? Not your gods?" Ben noted his key choice of word

Set did not respond.

"Ben, it's time to go, we're needed in the hangar." Curie interjected.

"I was just wrapping up." Ben privately replied. "Thank you, Set."

The Elite didn't respond as he left, returning to his work. Ben wasn't quite sure what had inspired his insightful answers, but it was welcome nonetheless.

**UNSC Dominion, Main Hangar**

**October 9th, 2002 Menagerie Time, 2552**

By the time Ben reached the Hangar, most of the mess from the operation and triage had been cleaned up. Most of the Marines were gone, although some of the Tankers were still fixing their vehicles. The Scorpion that was damaged at Point Wilhelm was having it's turret repaired, and one of the Grizzlies was having a barrel replaced. Ben was shocked by the scorch marks that dotted the barrel, and in many places, it appeared to have suffered microfractures.

_Concentrated laser fire. _Ben recognized, not deviating from his course.

It seemed that the aircraft had a much easier time with the mission than the ground vehicles, as Ben couldn't pick out any with any damage amongst them. Some of the Warthogs had new scars of battle, and one of the Lynxes was having a track replaced.

_Spare parts are in limited supply as well, we should choose our battles carefully._ Ben thought, well aware that replacements were out of the question.

He spotted Jorge standing near the large aft entrance to the hangar, talking to Mags without his helmet on. She looked like she had encountered problems with the rain on the way over, as her uniform was soaked, along with her hair and tail.

"Reporting as ordered, Sir." Ben stated as he approached, offering a salute to Jorge as he came to a stop.

"At ease." Jorge replied, relieving him with a wave of his hand. "I take it something got in your way on the way over?"

"No Sir, it's just a long walk from the Brig." Ben replied.

Jorge gave a grunt of acknowledgment before turning back to Mags. "You've met the Sergeant, right Mags?"

"I have, we killed a Geist outside of the Relay Station, and we also picked out anything salvageable from your crash site." Mags answered, before turning to Ben. "Good to see you alive and well Sergeant."

"Likewise ma'am." Ben replied, before realizing Jorge . "What was it that you needed me for, Sir?"

"Mags is going to activate your Aura, or at the very least, try." Jorge explained, his voice lacking optimism.

His face concealed behind his visor, Ben raised an eyebrow. He was absolutely fine with getting another tactical edge over the enemy, although Jorge's tone raised a sense of doubt in his mind.

Curie ended up raising the exact concern he had. "I am confused, what do you mean 'try'? Surely this cannot go wrong?"

"Well, I gave it a shot on the big lad here-" Mags said, gesturing towards Jorge. "-and the results were... less than stellar. His reservoirs of Aura are the lowest I've ever seen, to give you some idea, a wild animal could summon a stronger defense."

"It's not a concern." Jorge quickly added, as if sensing Ben's worry. "I've fought without an Aura for this long, I'm not about to get killed just because I don't have one now."

"Well said Sir." Ben added, well aware of what the legendary soldier was capable of, even without the assistance of an Aura.

"But if you don't have an Aura... what about your soul?" Curie nervously said, her tone rich with concern.

Mags replied to her almost immediately. "Oh don't worry missy, he does, it's just his Aura that's weak. Aura isn't your soul, it's just how it manifests into something more tangible."

"That is certainly a relief." Curie said, now sounding much more confident.

"We shouldn't dawdle." Jorge interjected. "Mags, are you ready to give this a shot?"

"Certainly, activating yours practically drained nothing out of mine." Mags answered, before gesturing to Ben. "Come on over Sergeant, I don't bite."

Ben did as she asked, stopping directly in front of her.

"Ah, I need you to take the helmet off, if you don't mind." Mags said, and with a nod of reassurance from Jorge, he complied. As soon as she got a look at his face, her face gave an expression of mild surprise. "Woah... you're uh..."

"Yeah, I know, plasma rifle shot, I got it when I was three. I got lucky, the surgeons managed to save most of the nerves." Ben said, assuming that she was looking at his slightly disfigured face.

"No, that's uh, not what I was thinking about." Mags awkwardly said. "You're uh, a lot younger than I was expecting."

"Yes." Ben pointedly replied. "Is there a problem?"

_Even if she did put it together, children fighting is commonplace on this planet._ Ben thought, before the realization clicked. _I wonder, are all those kids who sign up for those academies... are they like me? Do they just want revenge, or do they want to be heroes?_

"...No, not at all." Mags finally answered, although it looked like she was thinking about it more deeply. "Now, let's give this a shot."

She took a deep breath and reached up to place one hand on his forehead, placing her other on his chest. It looked like she was concentrating very deeply, although she remained silent.

_Is something supposed to be happening? _He wondered, although he didn't really have much of an idea of what to expect.

She quietly pulled her hands back, looking at him with extra ordinary confusion. "Ben, your soul is... really weird. I don't really know how to describe it, but it's almost like you've got two soul souls kinda stitched together."

"Hold on a moment." Jorge interjected immediately, a look of realization on his face. "Ben, take Curie's chip out for a moment."

"Yes Sir." Ben replied, withdrawing her chip from his neural lace, before holding it out in front of him in his palm. She displayed her hologram, which took Mags by surprise.

"Woah!" Mags yelped. "I uh... sorry, I just wasn't expecting that."

"Do not worry madame, most people from Remnant have that reaction." Curie replied forgivingly.

"Let me hold her for a moment Ben." Jorge instructed, to which he complied. "Okay Mags, give it a try now."

She placed her hands on his chest and head once more. Again, she closed her eyes, as if focusing intently on something. After a few moments, she spoke, her voice sounding oddly distant. Her body began to radiate a small amount of blue light, concentrating in her hands.

"For it is through persistence that we achieve victory. Through this, we become a symbol of valor and virtue, to rise above death. Infinite in courage and unfettered by nature, I release your soul, and by my honor, release thee." She said, before letting her hands fall to her sides and taking a few long breaths.

For a few moments, Ben's body flickered a dull silver, before once again returning to normal.

"Do you feel any different?" Curie asked, Jorge also looked curious as to his thoughts.

"...Not really." Ben answered after a moment's consideration. "Did it work?"

"It certainly did." Mags answered, still a bit short of breath. "But it's like Jorge's, very low reserves, almost like something's wrong with it."

"He can use his?" Jorge asked.

Curie turned around to face him directly. "I believe that there is nothing stopping you from using yours, Lieutenant."

"She's right, you can both use your Aura, you just can't really do much with them." Mags confirmed. "Not to mention that neither of you have any training, so until that changes, you're still just... ya know..."

"Spartans?" Ben suggested, not understanding what she was trying to say.

Mags nodded. "Yeah, that."

"What about Curie." Jorge said. "If you could feel her soul, does that mean you can activate her Aura?"

She thought for a moment. "I can certainly try, what do you say lass?"

Curie nodded. "I am certainly willing to attempt this, although I do admit, the lack of any sort of scientific precedent is... unnerving."

"Don't do anything you're not comfortable with Curie." Ben interjected. "If you aren't sure about this, you could always wait until later."

"Maybe he's right." Mags said. "I don't think anyone's ever tried giving something that has no body an Aura, you might get hurt somehow."

Curie seemed conflicted. "...May I have some time to think about it? I can try to do some research, to see whether anyone has ever tried this before."

"That's fine by me." Mags answered, before looking back up to the Spartans. "But you two... I don't really know what's going on with you."

Jorge frowned. "Well, is there anyone who would?"

Mags thought for a moment. "My old teacher, he runs one of the Huntsmen Academies now, his name's Ozpin. If anyone is going to know what's going on with you two, it's going to be him."

"We know him." Jorge confirmed, which came as a surprise to Ben. "I'll talk to the Commander about it, maybe the Headmaster would be willing to help us out."

"You'd have to convince him that you're not the bad guys first, although I find it hard to believe he's like any of those superstitious junkies up in Atlas or Mistral." Mags said. "Although once I vouch for you, he'll probably come around."

"Do you think he would be willing to help me as well?" Curie asked.

"You? I mean, I'm sure he'd be willing to try." Mags answered as she awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "Look, most of the robotics and A.I dudes live up in Atlas, and I seem to recall that you and them are having some... issues."

"We'll figure something out." Jorge stated as he handed Curie back to Ben, who reinserted her into his neural implant, before returning his helmet to his head. "Right now, we have some other concerns. Sergeant, report in with Ensign Gillespie for further instructions."

"Yes Sir." Ben acknowledged. He offered a crisp salute, and departed.

"Mags, do you mind seeing what you can do for the wounded-" Jorge continued, before the sound of his voice was drowned out by the sound of power tools as Ben walked away.

"Do you think I could have an Aura?" Curie privately asked him.

"I don't see why not, you were made from a human brain, right?" Ben asked. "Human brain, human soul... I think."

She gave a nervous chuckle. "Your confidence is reassuring."

"Don't look at me, I'm not exactly a spiritual man, what with all the metal and silicon." Ben answered in mock defense.

"Ah, that reminds me." Curie said. "Once I finish examining some blueprints I recovered, would you be willing to help me with a bit of an experiment? The Schnee Dust Company was developing a new weapon that I believe we may be able to fabricate."

"I don't see why not, as long as Commander Richard signs off on it." Ben said.

_I'm sure if it helps with some of the problems we're having he'll be willing to give it a shot._ Ben thought, well aware of how the scarcity of resources would likely influence their next moves on Remnant.


	36. Chapter 36

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 10th, 0334 local Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

By the time that the Dominion was back in the air, the sun had long since set over Menagerie. They left the Relay Station fully manned, as Richard did not foresee a need for large-scale actions in the future. No matter what their next move would be, it would involve smaller units, meaning he could spare the staff. Keeping the Relay Station in Menagerie online was also critical to their relations with Remnant, and that meant keeping it crewed.

Richard was painfully aware of the strategic vulnerabilities of the CCTS. The whole system was disabled whenever a single host tower went down for maintenance, which made him wonder what a freak accident or terrorist attack would do to Remnant. Of course, they had the technology and knowledge to fix the issue, but it would likely be months before they could even start fabricating basic satellites, let alone deploying them for global communication.

_I guess I should be thankful for what we have._ Richard thought as he sealed the bulkhead to the War Room.

"Hello, Commander." Bradford acknowledged, looking up from what he was typing on his datapad. "Lieutenant Oswald said he's going to need another minute, he's wrapping something up with the Council of Mistral."

"Well we're not exactly strained for time anymore, we can afford to be patient." Richard replied, happy that he no longer had such awful time constraints weighing on his shoulders. "In the meantime, I would appreciate a formal casualty count for Operation Bismarck... just for the logs."

"Aye Sir, I've already made one." Bradford wearily replied. "Civilian deaths currently rest at fifty-six, with four still in critical condition. Every single civilian we rescued was either wounded or walking wounded."

_Fifty-six._ Richard silently mouthed. When measured against the standards of the Human-Covenant War, the losses were small, but for a counter-terrorism operation, it was appalling.

"I'm afraid it gets worse, we didn't get out of that unscathed ourselves," Bradford said. "Twenty-one Marines are currently classified as walking wounded, fourteen are formally wounded..."

Bradford visibly took a deep breath and let it out unevenly. "...twelve KIA, all Marines, save for a single ODST. All of their remains have been moved to cryopods."

_Even if they're unlikely to return home._ Richard bitterly thought. "Enemy Casualties?"

"Hard to say, but we're looking at anywhere between four hundred to six hundred. If we account for the enemies killed during our naval engagement, that number skyrockets to over fourteen-hundred." Bradford answered. "We took forty-six prisoners of war, and we estimate anywhere from seven to twenty hostiles managed to escape."

_At least the ratio is in our favor, even if the MAC is skewing the numbers a bit._ Richard thought. "We cannot do that again, not without good reason."

Bradford nodded solemnly. "We did have a good reason, Sir. We pulled over three-hundred souls out of hell, and the mass grave we found at Point Guderian only proves that we saved their lives. Reports from the survivors were... disturbing, we're going to need more psychologists."

For the millionth time, Richard cursed his inability to share the true extent of the SDC's crimes with Remnant's civilian population. The media was ablaze, calling their operation an act of war against Atlas, while the Atlesian Government and a few of the more intelligent journalists defended their actions as a Joint-Operation with the Atlesian Military.

_I suppose that's actually true, isn't it? Even if the contributions of their military extend to one person and some intel._ Richard bitterly thought.

"...Sir?" Bradford nervously asked, interrupting Richard's thoughts.

_I must've missed something._ Richard thought, before awkwardly clearing his throat. "Sorry Lieutenant, can you please repeat your last statement?"

Bradford sighed, Richard could tell he was as tired and frustrated as everyone else on the ship. "Lieutenant Oswald is on his way, he says he has some reports to make."

"Let's hope he has good news." Richard replied, although he was less than optimistic. "For future reference, just call him Thomas, I'm pretty sure his last name bothers him for some reason."

"Everything bothers him for some reason." Bradford cheekily grumbled.

Richard gave a brief chuckle, it was nice to laugh at such a stressful time, even if Bradford wasn't intentionally joking. "Yes, but I have given the man a very important job. Some quirks in his behavior are certainly forgivable."

As if on cue, the bulkhead to the War Room cracked open. "Sorry I'm late, I was kissing the ass of a bunch of politicians whose egos stretched further than their vocabulary."

"Give them some credit Lieutenant, their education system is catastrophically decentralized." Richard said, watching as the man dropped enough paper to fill a bookshelf onto the holotable in the middle of the room.

"Busy day?" Bradford jokingly asked.

"Almost as busy as your's," Thomas said, his dry expression unwavering. "Still, all of that PR bullshit I picked up on in Section-Two must have some meaning, as I've secured travel rights and aerospace access from every Nation on Remnant. In return, they're all receiving updates of Grimm movements from our Satellites."

"Well, that's... good." Richard said, not expecting such dramatic results. "Very nice work Lieutenant."

"Well apparently Remnant's international borders were already rather loose, so it was more of a formality. Save the congratulations for when I actually accomplish something." Thomas explained.

_Still, getting them some military intel against our universal enemy, that's a good thing._ Richard thought, wondering just how much the Dominion's sensor suite could be put to use.

"The council over in Vacuo finally replied to my goddamn emails. Unfortunately, they're not the real government, the local Huntsmen Academy is." Thomas continued. "Shade Academy has yet to respond to any of my requests for diplomatic contact, but I admit, I haven't given them very long."

"So, it's under Martial Law?" Richard asked, not sure if he understood the situation.

He still wasn't really sure what the Huntsmen would really be classified as under UEG law, or even UNSC regulation. Currently, he decided to classify them as "Soldiers of Remnant", despite the lack of a global governmental structure. An exception was made for the Altesian Specialists, who were pretty clearly under Atlas's command.

Thomas shook his head. "It's like Gao down there, only with less murder, thankfully."

"Wild-west laws." Bradford confirmed. "So we can officially reduce the number of major powers on this planet from five to four."

Richard gave a mental sigh, humanity did not need to lose any more strength, and it certainly couldn't lose more organization. Nevertheless, ignoring the situation on the ground was practically begging for disaster, so he reluctantly nodded.

"The Kingdom of Vale has been the most cooperative of them all. Their Council even offered us all citizenship once I explained that we're effectively marooned out here." Thomas continued. "Naturally, I declined as politely as I could, but it's still worth mentioning."

"Good god, ONI's going to have our heads if we ever make it back home." Bradford muttered.

"Well, they probably won't like all of the Medical advances that Lieutenant Chase insisted I distribute." Thomas added. "I compromised with her, stating that I would not hand over knowledge on how to produce any form of military stimulant or biochemical augmentation agent."

"Or chemical weapons." Bradford added.

Thomas tensed up slightly, barely enough for Richard to notice. "That was never on the table, the last thing we need is to give these people nerve gas. Thankfully, Curie volunteered to package all of the relevant data and sort out anything that we don't want to be sharing... in fact, she did it even before I asked her too."

"I'd rather have a sympathetic A.I than an apathetic one." Richard said, noting his subtly worded concerns.

"Well, I'm afraid I do have one last bit of bad news." Thomas unhappily reported. "We've received a pretty much universal condemnation for our "reckless actions towards the global Dust supply", their words, not mine."

Richard nodded in recognition, General Ironwood had been making the same complaints to him for some time. The Schnee Dust Company controlled so much of Remnant's Dust mining and refinement operations, that the UNSC's intervention posed the very real risk of causing a Dust shock. "I'm well aware, their concerns are valid."

"I was hoping you would recognize that. I have, of course, prepared a counter-strategy." Thomas said, picking up a single piece of paper. "Now, we have two major options here. Either we negotiate with individual mine owners to renounce the SDC..."

"We do not negotiate with Slavers." Bradford interjected. "They made their choice, and we made ours when we took our oaths."

"Commander?" Thomas asked, looking to him for his judgement.

Richard considered it for only a moment but swiftly discarded the option. It would be a great disgrace those Marines who had been killed, and show Remnant that the UNSC was willing to bend the knee to any sort of wrongdoing. "No, we intervened for a reason, there's no backing out now. We're finishing this, all of the way."

"Yeah, saw that coming..." Thomas said, discarding the one piece of paper and gesturing towards the rest of his stack. "This right here is what myself and Lieutenant Chen have dubbed Operation Red Cross."

"Red Cross?" Bradford asked, apparently not recognizing the reference.

Thomas gained another layer of irritation on his facial expression. "It's a reference to the old humanitarian organization, back before the Interplanetary Wars rendered them a bit obsolete."

_Well, I suppose with everything that got nationalized around that time, the Red Cross probably got rebranded._ Richard thought.

"Regardless, the name was fitting, given the nature of the operation. Its goal is deceptively simple, stop Remnant from suffering an economic downturn, or at the very least, nullify it." Thomas explained.

"This is going to be really expensive, isn't it?" Richard wearily guessed.

"Well, let me put it this way. If we diverted all of the Lien that we've siphoned out of the SDC's bank accounts, which I do not suggest we do, we would cover around half of the cost." Thomas said, painting a pretty vivid picture of the monetary costs.

Richard involuntarily flinched, followed swiftly by Bradford. Thomas gave them both a look of rare sympathy as he continued. "Curie has not given me an official number, but we're looking at around a half a trillion Lien."

"Well, I suppose we are overhauling an entire planet's economic structure..." Bradford commented.

Thomas gave an awkward chuckle. "No, that's simply not going to happen for the foreseeable future. This plan is to keep Remnant's economy afloat and functioning while the Dust Industry recovers, which, by my estimation, will be about six months. All that funding is going to get delivered in the form of a very complex economic plan that Curie's cooking up, she'll need at least another day."

"...I don't suppose there's anything we could do to help reduce the cost?" Richard asked, although he was afraid he knew the answer.

"Actually, there is, and it's fairly simple. We stop destroying Dust, and the tools to harvest it, we'll bring the whole industry online a lot faster if we don't have to rebuild all of that." Thomas proposed.

Richard was surprised by his answer, but also doubtful. "You want us to give the SDC some breathing room?"

"Absolutely not." Thomas answered. "If anything, we need to put on the pressure, cut off their head while they're still stunned and knock them out of the fight before this situation gets any worse."

_Well, so much for easing up on the time constraints._ Richard thought bleakly. "What did you mean, in that case?"

"What I'm proposing is that instead of destroying the enemy's assets, their airships, their mining equipment, all that rubbish, we capture them. We've already been capturing equipment, but we've been passing up on some civilian gear would be just as expensive to replace, and if we can snag it, we can just hand it back to Remnant's people once this is all over." Thomas explained.

_Specifically, the people who don't want to shoot us._ Richard silently finished. "That certainly sounds reasonable, but it doesn't solve the issue of gathering the funds we need. You said we'd need to practically double our existing budget, and we're going to need a lot of that money just to keep ourselves running out here."

"You're certainly correct, we shouldn't use all of it." Thomas conceded. "But we should certainly put a good chunk of our new funds into this, given the potentially disastrous consequences of handling this poorly. The Kingdoms of Remnant should also be more than willing to help out, especially once they realize all of their ammo is irreplaceable, at least for a time."

Richard's stomach dropped, he hadn't thought about ammo. The Grimm activity would skyrocket if the Huntsmen weren't able to stifle them, and the Huntsmen subsequently wouldn't have the ammo to fight them off. The Dominion and her Marines could certainly help, but there simply weren't enough people under his command to defend an entire planet at once.

"What about our propellant?" Bradford pointed out. "Can't we share the manufacturing process, bring Remnant's weaponry a bit further in terms of technology in the process?"

"Well if you're willing to rechamber every gun on the planet to account for the dramatic increase in pressure and muzzle velocity. And also build half a city's worth of chemical plants to make enough to supply everyone, all while handing our potential future enemies a major advantage, then yeah, I guess we could use it." Thomas replied in a dead serious but blatantly sarcastic tone.

Bradford waved his hand in resignation. "I believe I understand, Lieutenant."

"We do have a solution, right?" Richard asked, hopeful that Thomas had delivered once again.

"As it turns out, our enemy found one for us." Thomas answered, withdrawing a piece of paper from the stack and handing it over. "What they called "Synthetic Blast Dust" is what the French called "Smokeless Powder" back when they invented it. Unlike our propellant, we can feasibly expect the people of Remnant to make this stuff, due to how simple it is to produce."

_Ah, so they did develop it... kind of._ Richard thought as he read the captured document, apparently, the SDC had recognized the hazard to their profits and snuffed the project out. _Well I suppose that makes some sense, especially given their ties to Atlas's R&D sector. Maybe they pose a greater threat to humanity's future than we initially thought, stifling innovation like this..._

"Curie has proposed that we make some kind of new mixture, a combination of Dust and simple smokeless powder. We'll increase the lifespan of Remnant's stockpiles, and give their weapons an upgrade, whilst also retaining our advantage over any potential enemies." Thomas explained.

"Why mix it with Dust?" Richard asked. "What's wrong with just using the propellant as it is?"

"Remnant's existing supply of weapons cannot handle the internal-pressure, not without extensive retooling. By mixing its ballistic properties with Dust, hopefully, we can give most weapons a boost whilst also remaining safe to use. This also allows the operator to continue to use the more... eccentric abilities of Dust." Thomas answered.

"I don't think we have any chemists." Bradford pointed out. "Or chemical plants, or scientists, or workers..."

"We don't, but Remnant does." Thomas pointed out, continuing to lay out his strategy. "We'll put together some kind of development coalition, headed up by Curie, and hopefully some local experts. Hopefully we can put something together that's cheap and effective enough that we can hand the recipe over to the people of Remnant."

Richard nodded, clearly the man had thought this through. He couldn't pick out a fault in Thomas's plan, although only time would tell if it would work. "I assume this is all still in the planning phases?"

"I'm afraid so." Thomas confirmed. "I'd need funding, and preferably the war to be over, before I get this truly underway."

"Take whoever you need off the roster and a quarter of our funds. Put together a team and get this done." Richard instructed, well aware of the consequences of failure. "In the meantime, we'll finish the SDC, and start trying to make sure the rest of this planet doesn't hate us."

Thomas let out a breath that Richard hadn't noticed he'd been holding. "Aye Sir. And please, keep in mind, if you find any assets that might be useful to all of this... try to steal them, not blow them up."

"We'll keep that in mind." Richard reassured him. "But right now, I think we could all use a bit of rest, we've had a very long day. You're all dismissed Gentlemen."

**UNSC Dominion, Sickbay**

**October 10th, 0945 local Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

It was downright unnatural to see Fairfire so quiet. Ever since she'd been admitted to sickbay, in one of the beds directly across from his, she'd barely said a word. She'd barely moved either, only touching her datapad once or twice.

Of course, Nathan wasn't totally in the dark, he knew that something had happened on the mission, something that had gone horribly wrong. He could also deduce from the distant expression in her eyes and the frustrated glares she received from the medical staff that she had made some kind of major mistake.

_She wasn't like this even after Concord, what the hell happened?_ Nathan thought, although he knew better than to ask.

So he did his own investigation, searching the B-net and the squad roster for any information. He found two critical clues that offered him some additional context. Firstly, one of the Helljumpers that they had gained after Concord was dead. Nathan couldn't claim to have known Kilo particularly well, but losing another ODST couldn't be easy. Still, Fairfire had led them through heavy losses before, and she'd never looked like this afterwards.

_By my count, that's seven Helljumpers still alive, plus Ben and Jorge._ Nathan thought, somewhat gruesomely. _I can't imagine what that's got to be like, knowing that you might be the only Spartans in this universe. Sure, we can train more Helljumpers, but Spartans?_

The second clue he found disturbed him considerably more, Fairfire had been demoted all the way down to Corporal. Nathan himself had been demoted before, but never so dramatically. A million possibilities ran through his mind, maybe there had been some sort of friendly fire incident?

"You've been staring for fifteen minutes, Private."

_Private, not Nathan._ He noted that was a telling sign as to what she was thinking.

Fairfire sighed, prompting him out of his thoughts. "They didn't tell you what hap... what I did, did they?"

"Uh, no, they did not." Nathan awkwardly replied, still somewhat surprised that she had raised the subject so willingly.

"I tried to shoot a prisoner in the head. Yu… Yu tried to stop me, and she took a bullet meant for me, and now she's on death's door." Fairfire's voice was cold, calm, but most of all it was empty. Ditched in a way that felt unusual, it was clear that she wasn't all there and judging by the hazed look in her eyes she was reliving the moment.

It took him a moment to digest what she had said, and once she did, he found himself just as confused. He had absolutely no idea how to reply to what she had said, so he opted for a simple response that he hoped couldn't come across as too horribly insulting. Obviously what she had done was wrong, but she'd clearly already been through hell for it, so he didn't see a point in throwing any more shit her way. "...why?"

She looked at him with an expression of frustration. "You're going to have to be more specific than that."

_I suppose that's fair enough._ Nathan thought, before trying to string together a better question. "Uh... well, start at the beginning, I guess. Why did you shoot a prisoner?"

"I don't…" Fairfire grated her teeth. "Let me bring you up to speed first."

He already knew about the civilian casualties, but as Fairfire explained, it was a grand deal worse than people getting caught up in the crossfire. They had found two mass graves, and Fairfire had a part in discovering both of them. From the way she described it, it had been weighing on her quite heavily.

"But it's more than just that." Fairfire continued, her voice somewhat strained. "It's this whole fucking planet! The Grimm are a fucking nightmare, the Slaves, even Menagerie..."

"It all got under your skin?" Nathan guessed, although he sounded a lot more unsure than he intended. He immediately mentally kicked himself, noting the defensive look that she quickly blinked away.

"Of course I-" Fairfire took a deep breath. "...I guess so, as wrong as that sounds..." she answered, although the uncertainty in her voice was rich. "I just felt so... angry, like I couldn't do anything else, like I had to do it."

Nathan found answering that exceptionally difficult, he'd never been great with people. "Like, there wasn't any thought behind it, you just-"

"Oh no, there was thought behind it alright." she interrupted. "It was like... some kind of brutal logic, not good logic, just... like it was perfectly natural."

"An instinct?" Nathan offered, to which she nodded. "Well shit, I don't really know what to say to that..."

"There's not much to say, at least, not that anyone else hasn't already." Fairfire wearily said. "But don't get me wrong, I deserve it all, for certain."

Nathan took a deep breath. "Well, we all make mistakes-"

"Nathan, I tried to shoot a fucking prisoner, in the head, with intent to kill." Fairfire clearly stated in the same dead-serious tone he rarely heard off of the battlefield. "If Yu hadn't tried to tackle me, I would have ended that man's life."

Nathan gave a sad nod. "You know she's gonna live, right?"

"Yeah, I know." Fairfire confirmed, her voice sounding even more weary than before. "But she's just a kid, and she nearly died because of me..."

"She's twenty-five." Nathan pointed out.

"Yeah, but as far as ODST's go, she's... I just don't want to see her die like that." Fairfire said, her voice straining. "You know what she's like, I don't want this to shoot down her spirit. If she was angry at me, I could stand that, but if she's just lost her nerve..."

"She's a Helljumper." Nathan bluntly said. "Meadows has pulled himself out of worse wounds before."

"After three months off the frontline in a shrink's office, sure, he did." Fairfire countered, before letting out a heavy sigh. "Look, I just... I don't want her to wake up and be a different person, you know?"

"I think I get it." He confirmed, now understanding what she was afraid of. "For what it's worth, I think she'll pull through in the long run, even if she's a bit thrown off in the short-term."

Fairfire gave a bleak nod. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

As much as Nathan wanted to offer some words of comfort, all he could do was nod. She was right, and lying to her was meaningless. "I guess so."

**Atlas Academy, General Ironwood's Office**

**October 10th, 1058 local Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

Ironwood stared at the paper on his desk for only a moment, before realizing it was yet another request for an interview. Sadly, Ironwood's response was already dictated for him, as between running a Huntsman Academy, his position on the Council, his role in the Military, and trying to manage the ongoing conflict between the UNSC and the SDC, he was simply too busy. He wrote a brief but hopefully polite letter declining the request, marked it to be sent to the respective news agency, and moved on to the next paper in the stack... another request for an interview. He took a glance at the paper under that, it was asking for a statement regarding the UNSC's recent operation.

Ironwood sighed. _Maybe a press conference is in order, but there's no way I would have time for it. Perhaps one of the other Councilmen-_ He thought, before a series of harsh knocks on his office door snapped him out of his thoughts.

He set aside the paper, knowing full well that he had no scheduled appointments, but also knowing that security would have stopped anyone with malicious intent. "...Come in."

The doors swung open to reveal a battle-dressed, middle-aged Huntsman, one that he had not expected to see again.

"Sorry Sir, but I wasn't about to wait in line, I've got intel that you need to hear." Garrett dryly said.

The man looked like he had been through hell, his face sported a few new scars, and he had large bags under his eyes. He clearly hadn't even finished dusting off his uniform before coming to Atlas, and more interestingly, it was his older-model uniform from before he retired. His former eyepatch had apparently been replaced by a synthetic brown eye, which was just unnatural enough to not blend with his remaining biological eye.

"Close the blinds, this is sensitive material!" he demanded, as he slammed the doors behind him. "I would not have just risked barging into your office with no good reason, and you damn well know it!"

Ironwood slowly eased out of his shock, before reaching for the button on his desk, and closing his Office's shutters. Garrett came from a different era of the Atlesian Military, one that favored a swift response to a problem over a thorough one. As such, he was willing to forgive the old Huntsman's habits, especially if he had valuable intelligence. "It's been a little while, Major."

"Don't call me that!" the man snapped, with a surprising amount of venom in his voice, although he seemed to quickly regret it. "I'm sorry Sir, it's... it's been a rough few days."

_That's not like him._ Ironwood noted. _Garrett was rather infamous for being a bit cowardly, what's given him a spine?_

His curiosity gave him enough reason to hear the man out, Ironwood moved the stack of papers on his desk out of the way, and gestured to one of the chairs in front of him. "Alright then... Garrett, have a seat. Talk to me, what's happened that's so important?"

The man took a seat, but gave a nervous glare over his shoulder, like he was seeing something that Ironwood wasn't. "Well, originally, I was going to come up here and say the conspiracy theorists were right, and that the Schnee Dust Company is actually a bunch of slaving monsters. But I realized about halfway here that you probably already know that, don't you?"

"I'm well aware of the crimes of Jacques Schnee and his enterprise." Ironwood confirmed. "There is a reason that we've allowed the UNSC to keep running their operations."

"Well, you really should get to telling the rest of Atlas, and especially Mantle!" Garrett angrily said. "A PR statement is one thing, but everyone on the ground... they think you're full of shit, Sir."

_Vulgar, but he got the point across._ Ironwood unhappily thought. "I believe the rest of the Council is more than capable of handling public relations regarding this crisis, I have my hands full enough with the Grimm."

"Well, maybe you wouldn't have so many Grimm to deal with if you made it clear why we're fighting!" Garrett argued. "Maybe then idiots like me wouldn't go signing up to fight unwinnable battles."

Ironwood raised a hand, noting a critical detail, one that might explain why the man looked so ragged. "Stop, were you at the mines yesterday?'

Garrett grimaced. "Yeah, I'm afraid I was. As far as I know, I'm the only survivor from the whole crew at the Selfoss Strip Mine. I know the UNSC took a bunch of the Faunus, but I...don't know what happened to them."

_He sounds worried, does he think the UNSC were trying to kidnap them, or worse?_ Ironwood thought, although he knew otherwise, the man's insight could still prove valuable in some manner. But first, he needed to gauge where Garrett's loyalties were. "Do you mind describing what happened, and maybe shed some light on why you were there in the first place?"

"That's why I'm here, you need to hear this. The rest of Atlas would just sit with their thumb up their ass all day, but you actually try to get things done!" Garrett answered, before taking a deep breath. "I had just shown up the previous day, I had no idea what those bastards were doing... I would have never been fighting for them if I knew!"

"And I have no reason to doubt that. But, of course, I will have to look into that." Ironwood stated, which he truly believed. Garrett's cowardly habits meant that he would be less likely to take risks of such a high caliber, and he had no history of any sort of discriminatory beliefs. "But for now, please, continue."

Garrett gave a thankful nod. "The attack started with every electronic in the base going nuts, I mean androids, the loader mechs, the lights, and even the defense turrets. It was when we were changing shifts, they must have known somehow. Within half a minute, anything electronic was dead, and the soldiers on watch did the only thing you'd expect a bunch of half-baked volunteers to do."

"Panic." Ironwood finished his sentence, to which Garrett nodded. Immediately, Ironwood understood why the battle was such a slaughter.

"The Grimm were on us even before the UNSC were. They came in these small vehicles, like those new rocket lockers the kids get these days, except they're designed to hold people." Garrett said, inadvertently confirming one of the earlier rumors Ironwood had heard. "They dropped out of the sky and tore our defense to ribbons. We never had a chance to even assemble a frontline, let alone hold in."

"Did you fight them?" Ironwood asked, curious as to how a trained Huntsmen would stack up against the UNSC.

"Only one." Garrett answered, his voice betraying extreme discomfort. "It was this person in powered armor, eons ahead of whatever your eggheads have cooked up. Do you remember how my Semblance works?"

"Powered armor..." Ironwood muttered, mulling it over. It was a technology that Atlas had experimented with in the past, to mixed results. When it came to actually making it combat-capable, the best example Atlas had was the large and unwieldy, but still powerful, Paladin. "...yes, I'm familiar with your Semblance, what of it?"

"Good, that'll make this easier to explain." Garrett said. "It took two rounds just to break the damn thing's energy shield, and I was putting all the effort I could into those. He managed to dodge the third shot... with no Aura, or a relevant Semblance, while wearing heavy armor. He dodged it like I was throwing rocks, and he ran so fast that he kept pace with me, easily!"

"Can you describe it?" Ironwood asked, unashamedly eager for what intel he could get.

Garrett nodded. "Oh, I can do you one better."

In a slightly unnerving manner, Garrett removed his cybernetic eye, before removing a small green chip from the artificial organ, before placing the eye back in. "Here, everything I saw, all inside this. I uh... don't care to see any of that again, you can keep it."

Ironwood took the device from his hands and looked at it, immediately recognizing the technology. Doctor Polendina's robotics advancements had made their way to the civilian world in the form of artificial limbs, far in advance of what the world had previously. He had extensive cybernetics himself, a result of grievous wounds from early in his career, so he knew that they were made with a great degree of care.

_Finally, something with a decent resolution, not to mention a first-person perspective! We might genuinely be able to figure out more about how they fight now!_ He thought, happy to have the first piece of reliable intelligence he could think of.

"Thank you... Garrett." Ironwood said, still somewhat thrown off by Garret's discomfort with his former rank. "We've been struggling for intel, and as you may have guessed, the UNSC is quite reluctant to share information about themselves."

Garrett narrowed his eyes, as if doubtful. "About that, if you want my take, I wouldn't trust them. They seemed a bit too eager to solve their problems with firepower."

Ironwood nodded in reluctant agreement. "I agree, a dialogue would certainly have been preferable... but I suppose it's too late for that now."

Garrett seemed to think something over for a minute, before speaking. "General... you should know, they took some of the Guards prisoner."

Ironwood nodded. "I'm well aware, the UNSC has taken prisoners previously."

"There's more to it..." Garrett continued, with a bit more effort than before in his voice. "...I saw one of them put a gun to the head of one of the prisoners."

Ironwood's immediate reaction was dread, not just at the brutality that was implied, but also of the inevitable ramifications of the revelation. "...You're certain?"

"Well, I didn't give them a chance to prove whether or not they really meant it. I still had my rifle... so I used it." Garret said, before gesturing to the datachip in Ironwood's hand. "You can see for yourself, but I didn't stick around for long afterwards, I was too badly outnumbered to make a meaningful difference."

Ironwood grimly nodded, knowing that Garrett likely wouldn't lie only to hand over contradictory evidence immediately prior. This made his situation considerably more complicated, and the only place he could look for answers was with the UNSC themselves.

_That kind of "Justice" is not tolerable on Remnant, I will make sure of it._ Ironwood thought, a sense of determination within him. "Thank you, I... I will address this situation as is necessary."

"That's all I ask." Garrett said, seemingly satisfied with his answer. "And General... if things turn for the worst, you're willing to do what's necessary, right?"

The image of three Atlesian Cruisers being utterly obliterated flashed inside his mind as he answered. "I always have been."

Garrett stood up from his chair. "Then I believe we're done here. Unless, of course, you had other business with me."

Ironwood recognized the unspoken question. "I'll talk to the other Councilmembers, but I'm sure they'll be more than willing to agree on a pardon, your loyalties are clearly in the right place."

"With Atlas." Garrett confirmed.

Ironwood gave a nod of respect. Garrett might've been a different breed of soldier from a bygone era, but his duties were the same as Ironwoods. "Until next time, Specialist."

"Hopefully there isn't one." He replied, before taking his leave.

Ironwood leaned back in his chair, letting out a deep breath of frustration. He only allowed himself a moment's rest, before plugging in the datachip, dreading what he was going to see more than he expected.

**UNSC Dominion, Lieutenant Jorge's Quarters**

**October 10th, 1604 local Time, 2552 UNSC Military Calendar**

Jorge was still having trouble getting accustomed to the nuances of his new rank. Personal Quarters were something he found greatly unusual, even somewhat discomforting. He also had more downtime than he would have liked, and despite the infeasibility of it, he wished he was back on the frontline, fighting whatever enemy he was needed to defend humanity from.

_We're the only ones who can stand toe-to-toe with those Specialists. We should constantly be striking, never giving them a chance to breathe._ Jorge stubbornly thought, even though he was well aware of the faults of the strategy.

To avoid boredom and to keep himself productive while he waited for Ben to arrive, he spent his time familiarizing himself with his armor's new oddities, namely in the new micro-fusion reactor. Ben had donated the spare reactor from his maintenance kit, and it was fairly different from the heavily modified variant of the Mark IV power supply he had previously been using. Ben had found a way to tie it into the bulky prototype shield generator in his chestpiece, permitting his shields more strength than ever before.

His helmet carried some new oddities after it was repaired. The replacement visor was slightly discolored, duller than his previous one by a small amount, which was a side-effect of replacing it using material meant to fix Ben's visor. It served as a reminder that he wasn't invulnerable, something that he had accepted some time ago. It also reminded him of Reach, and the death of the armor's inventor, Doctor Halsey.

_Hard to believe she's gone..._ Jorge thought, unable to forget the sight of Reach's surface being burned by nuclear fire as he floated around Anchor Nine, prior to the execution of Operation UpperCut. _She had her faults, no doubt about that, but she cared for us in her own way..._

He'd avoided looking at the casualty reports from the battle at Reach too much, only checking to confirm his team was still alive. Unfortunately, all of them were listed as MIA, including him, which told him nothing. Dr. Halsey however, was quite clearly listed as KIA. Although a small part of him wanted to believe it wasn't true in some way, he couldn't come up with a reason why HIGHCOM would falsely list her as dead. But she was far from the only person who fell during the defense of the planet.

He'd watched colonies burn before, more times than he could count, either by plasma or nuclear fire, they all had the same result. Watching Reach go through the same process... it hurt him in ways that he didn't fully understand. It didn't take a genius to guess that Reach had been lost, or that it was in the slow, bitter process of losing, like Harvest had been during the start of the war.

The biggest warning sign was how everyone tensed up when he mentioned it, especially Ben, which amplified his concerns considerably. He didn't know for certain what condition Reach was in, but he couldn't bring himself to look. It was an unmistakable fault in his will, something that would've earned him a harsh smack around the ears back in training.

_I wish Sam was still alive, or Kurt, they would know what to do._ Jorge solemnly thought, thinking about some of his fallen brothers.

He didn't get many updates on what the main unit of the Spartan II's had been doing throughout the war, but the stories spoke for themselves, even before ONI had made parts of the program public and added their own spin of propaganda. The Spartan II's were a nightmare for the Covenant, a unit that they couldn't effectively counter, no matter what they did. Even in Space, his siblings had torn apart more warships than most UNSC Battlegroups.

His thoughts were interrupted by a distinctive metal-on-metal knocking that he was all too familiar with, Jorge placed his helmet back on his desk, and stood to open the door to his Quarters. When he opened the door, he found Sergeant Ben standing outside. "You asked to see me, Sir?"

"I did, come in." Jorge instructed. "What kept you?"

"Lieutenant Clark wanted to know if I was squared away, Sir." Ben answered, his posture stiffened even though he wasn't at attention.

Jorge gave a huff of amusement. Apparently, Lieutenant Clark didn't understand just how bored the Spartans were without a mission. "I see. Have a seat, and bring Curie out as well, I need to speak with both of you."

Ben did as he was commanded, pulling up a more durable chair for himself and letting Curie's chip rest on Jorge's desk, giving her a place to display her holographic form.

"How are you feeling, Curie?" Jorge asked. "I know adjusting to Dot's data must be difficult, so I just wanted to check-in."

Curie took a deep "breath". "I have finally catalogued the last of Dot's personality matrix, which has helped me somewhat. Although it still would've been preferable to save her, her sacrifice was not in vain."

"I see." Jorge said, careful not to press her. "Did you finish your examination of the crew? Does anyone have any experience with A.I, at least, enough to help you with the information she collected?"

"I did, and I did find one person." Curie answered sheepishly. "...Corporal Yu Sato, she has a minor's degree in A.I studies."

_Just our luck._ Jorge thought, well aware that it would be days before she could breathe on her own, let alone help Curie with Dot's data. "I understand, we'll get her assessment as soon as she's well enough to assist you."

"Please, don't put any unnecessary pressure on her, let her recover. I am more than capable of handling this issue myself, I will just need some time." Curie answered.

"I understand, if any of that changes, let us know." Jorge offered, before turning to Ben. "But I'm afraid that I have something I need to brief both of you on, we have a new assignment."

"What's the mission, Sir?" Ben asked. Jorge noted the eagerness in his voice, apparently he was just as bored as Jorge was.

_Good mindset._ Jorge noted, although he hadn't finished his assessment of the Spartan just yet. "We have a scheduled meeting with the Headmaster of Beacon Academy, the man that Mags suggested we talk to, Ozpin."

"Ah yes, him." Curie noted, with a degree of annoyance. "The one man on this whole planet who had a decent cybersecurity setup... not that it helped him, obviously."

Jorge hadn't known that, and judging by the surprised tilt of Ben's helmet, he hadn't either. "What's different about it?"

"Multilayered firewalls are nothing rare here, but the good Headmaster is a very paranoid man. Unlike Atlas, the systems at his Academy are totally isolated from each other. And I don't mean that he has security partitioning, I mean that his systems are quite literally physically separated, with explicit protocol not to link them." Curie explained. "The most startling thing to me was that behind most of that security is absolutely nothing, not a single bit of information. His personal terminal revealed some basic paperwork, but that's about it."

Jorge frowned in suspicion. "It sounds like he has something to hide."

"Well if he does, he has the common intellect to not store that information digitally, meaning it's out of my reach." Curie said, a hint of frustration in her voice. "Not to say that having a body would help much in this case, because breaking into a school where they train Special Forces is pretty universally considered a bad idea."

_It's hard to find a fault in that logic._ Jorge thought. "Well on the note of taking a visit, we'll be making notes of everything we see while we're there. If you spot something out of the ordinary, make sure you get it on camera. Any questions?"

"Sighting, got it." Ben said. "Will we be trying to secure any information about what the Headmaster is hiding?"

"No, we've been expressly ordered to abide by any requests to the best of our ability." Jorge answered. "Our primary objective is to investigate our Auras, we cannot jeopardize the mission just to potentially collect additional secondary information."

"Understood." Ben replied. "And Sir, what if he starts asking some... uncomfortable questions?"

Jorge gave a morbid chuckle. "The man trains child soldiers for a living, he doesn't have a lot to complain about in the moral department. As for classified material, that has not changed, understood?"

"Yes Sir." Ben answered. "When do we head out?"

"Twelve-hundred tomorrow, by Darter." Jorge answered.

"That soon?" Ben asked. "What about the SDC, aren't we needed here?"

_Excellent question._ Jorge thought, with a hint of frustration.

"The idea is that by the time we know whether or not we can fix our Auras, the Bridge Crew will have a plan drawn up." Jorge explained. "Was that all?"

"I believe so, Sir." Ben answered.

"Just one." Curie interjected. "What about me?"

Jorge mentally kicked himself for forgetting to mention such an important part of the mission. "You're coming too, and we'll see about getting your Aura activated. He might not be an expert on A.I, but when it comes to Aura, he might be able to give us some answers."

"I understand, thank you." Curie said.

"Did you need us for anything else Sir?" Ben asked.

Jorge thought, wondering if it was the appropriate time to bring up the nervous topic that was Reach. However, he decided that the two of them already had enough to worry about. "That was all. Go make whatever preparations you deem necessary, you're dismissed."

**Authors note: Chapters three and four were merged following rewrite, as they were both short enough and featured similar plot structure to justify it. The total chapter count has been reduced by one, but the actual plot and content of the story has not changed, please do not be alarmed. I apologize for all of the false notifications, I had hoped that by not actually submitting a new chapter the system wouldn't send those out.**


	37. Chapter 37

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 10th, 1723 local time, 2552**

As far as reconnaissance went, Solitas was an absolute nightmare. Constant snowstorms meant that up to half of the landmass was in a state of minimal visibility. The Recon Satellites struggled with the cloud cover, and although they could frequently work around the issue, it was still like looking through thick soup half of the time. Radar still worked clearly, which offered some idea of what was flying beneath the protective snowstorms.

_If this was any other colony, Solitas would be an abandoned and forgotten piece of uninhabitable dirt. _Richard bitterly thought, annoyed that something as inconsequential as the weather was standing in their way. _But on this planet, it's home to a global superpower._

He and Bradford were having an especially large amount of difficulty at the moment, as they were trying to bring their intel on enemy positions up to date. Specialist Schnee helped how she could, while Lieutenant Chen controlled the satellites, maneuvering them to get better angles on enemy positions.

"Chen, do we have any idea where that final enemy Cruiser is?" Richard asked, noting that the largest enemy icon had disappeared from the holotable.

"It never existed Sir, it was a passenger liner that we misidentified. The SDC has only ever operated three full-size warships, and we already sorted that problem out." She responded, her former anxiety long since gone.

It seemed that Richard's guess had been right, it seemed that the crew really did need a victory. It also helped that they were getting paid again, courtesy of the SDC fortune that Curie had stolen. The Marines were far more solemn, and it didn't take a genius to figure out why.

_Once this war is over, I will personally restock the entire bar in the Barracks, lord knows they've earned it._ Richard thought, well aware that such gestures were meaningless in the face of dead comrades. _But first, we have to win._

"Specialist Schnee, does the SDC operate any private Airfields?" Richard asked. "If we want to track down their last aircraft, that might be a good place to start.

"I'm afraid I've already looked, both of them are completely empty." Winter reported. "I had thought I told Lieutenant Bradford, but he must have forgotten to mention it."

"I was hoping to actually find their aircraft before I made my report..." Bradford stubbornly countered.

Richard interjected before the Specialist could respond, hoping to snuff their pointless confrontation in the bud. "I don't suppose you would have any idea where they would move all those planes?"

"The Central Distribution Center in Lampeter, more than likely." she answered. "It's the only place in Atlas with an airstrip big enough to house that many airships, unless they split them up."

Bradford gave a chuckle, and Richard was half-tempted to join him, it was a funny name. "Seriously, The Central Distribution Center? Who the hell names this crap?"

"You're guess is as good as mine. But if I had to guess, it was probably named by one of the idiots my father bought out." Winter said, apparently more frustrated than amused. "Unfortunately, it's also currently underneath a massive blizzard, so getting a visual on it is out of the question."

For the millionth time that day, Richard cursed Remnant's inhospitable weather. "We'll just plan around it for now. If we find out they have all of their aircraft somewhere else, we'll adjust our strategy."

"That seems like a fair enough course of action." Winter commented. "What surprised me is that the whole freighter fleet seems to have been moved. That's nearly a hundred airships of all different shapes and sizes, and all of them are just... gone. They must be worried if you got them to move that much hardware."

Bradford frowned at the missed opportunity. "Well, they likely know we would try to strike at a target like that. If we can knock out their supply vessels, we might be able to force enemy garrisons in the outskirts to surrender."

"You'd do quite a bit more than that, you'd end the war right there." Winter said with a huff of bemusement. "Of course, you'll also send the Dust Economy into an even deeper dive than you already have. Without those freighters, the railroads would be almost terminally overburdened."

_Well... maybe we don't need to destroy them._ Richard thought. He was about to voice his proposal, when he was interrupted by Ensign Gillespie.

"Sir, incoming hail from General Ironwood, priority one!" He shouted, immediately silencing the chatter of the Bridge.

Bradford gave a slight grimace, one that Richard shared, both of them knew what was coming. "Oh boy, should we get this over with?"

"We don't have much choice, we'll have to do this at some point, it might as well be now." Richard replied. He turned his attention to the terminal in front of his captain's chair as he sat down. "Patch him through!"

The terminal blinked, and Ironwood's office became visible, along with the man himself. The first thing about Ironwood that stood out to Richard was his posture. Normally, the man was professional and proper, but now, his stance was flawless. The second thing to stand out to him was the man's utterly neutral expression, a deathly serious glare that Richard found more than a little unnerving.

_I've stared down the Covenant and bloodthirsty admirals alike, an expression is nothing!_ Richard stubbornly thought, adjusting his own posture accordingly to meet the unspoken challenge.

"Hello General, it's good to see you alive and well." Richard said, taking the initiative of the conversation. "I hope everything's been going well planetside."

Ironwood waved his hand dismissively, he was clearly not interested in the pleasantries. "You and I both know why I'm calling, Commander. Let's get right to it, shall we?"

_Straight to the point._ Richard thought, happy to oblige. "Very well, you have my full attention."

Ironwood took a deep breath. "I believe I have made a grave mistake in trusting you as much as I have. You have operated with total impunity and with very little oversight. I was willing to allow it because I was under the assumption that your UNSC was above petty motivation. Now, I learn that you've exploited this unprecedented authority, and that you've been killing prisoners? I understand that you're not from around here, but we do not tolerate that kind of justice on Remnant, especially not in Atlas."

Richard noticed how Winter tensed up even more than she already was. Richard was well aware that she could probably decapitate him with a single gesture, and kill the rest of the Bridge Crew with another before security could even be alerted. Of course, she would never be able to take on the entire crew of the Dominion, and they all knew that. Richard just hoped that cooler heads prevailed, he intended to prevent further conflict, and also survive to complete his mission.

"No enemy combatants have died under our custody, you should already be well aware of that by now. I'm sure Specialist Schnee had already brought you up to speed on the situation with Private Weber, so I don't see much point in reiterating what has already been stated." Richard said, doing his best to keep his expression neutral.

Ironwood narrowed his eyebrows. "She's told me enough. If you can't even control your own soldiers, what business do you have performing missions in Atlas?!"

Richard felt his mind unexpectedly boil with rage, it took every ounce of his willpower not to lay into Ironwood with a barrage of cataclysmically undiplomatic statements. He had not expected such blind hypocrisy, so he took a deep breath, and issued his response.

"That's... an awfully bold statement for a man whose military managed to lose a squadron of capital ships to enemy hands." Richard stated. "And a squadron of fighters, and personnel, and vast amounts of funding..."

"Enough!" Ironwood shouted, his anger barely contained beneath a stern glare. "This conflict has exposed plenty of faults in the Atlesian Military, I will not deny that. But you are no saint either, you've made that clear from the body count of this damn war alone! Do you have any idea what this Dust Shock is going to do to Atlas, to all of Remnant?! Your recklessness has jeopardized the lives of everyone in Atlas and Mantle alike!"

"I'm well aware that I'm not a saint." Richard coldly replied. A deeply uncomfortable memory momentarily surfaced itself, a flash of atomic light on a human world, which he quickly returned to the deepest recesses of his mind. "But our efforts are not without results, General. We've pulled nearly five-hundred souls out of the depths of hell. Meanwhile, you've deployed a single soldier in a non-combat role."

Instead of any sort of anger, Ironwood merely raised an eyebrow, his expression regaining some of it's calmer nature. "I'm afraid you're not taking into account one thing that you've failed to address, the Grimm. Do you know how many people have died from the increased Grimm activity thanks to your actions? It's more than five-hundred people I assure you. I've counted."

_Damnit._ Richard thought, noting the potency of the argument. "I have one warship and a single Company of Marines. You're a strategically educated man, you know very well that we can't be everywhere at once. Would you rather I lay waste to half a continent from orbit, erase the Grimm to a fine glass along with half of your land?"

"No, but you see, that's not my point." Ironwood continued, pressing past Richard's idle threat with an admittedly impressive degree of confidence. "While you've been putting down the SDC, our largest military supplier, we've been fighting a constant battle against the Grimm here in Atlas. Unlike you, we can't just flee to orbit and wait out the consequences of the actions of others, we have to deal with the ramifications of your battles!"

Richard paused, choosing his next words carefully. If he intended to talk the General back down to a state of cooperation, it would take some careful thinking, and almost certainly some concessions. "Okay General, you've made your point. So let me ask you clearly, just to dispel any confusion in the air, what is it that you want from us?"

Ironwood leaned back slightly, seemingly pleased with his progress, but his expression did not waver. "I want you to help us clean up this mess you and the Schnee Dust Company have made, and help us rebuild what's been lost. I want you to show me that I can trust you, that you genuinely have Atlas's best interests in mind. Prove to me that this is an alliance that can work, that I can trust your intentions."

Richard raised an eyebrow, exaggerating the gesture as to make it obvious. "What, that's it?"

Richard noted the carefully concealed expression on Ironwood's face, the faint look of surprise that he quickly covered up, Richard's strategy was working. "That is what I want, Commander. I want Atlas to be safe and back to normal."

_Perfect._ Richard thought. "Then we have our interests aligned, if nothing else, believe that eliminating Atlas is not an option for us. But if you genuinely make this alliance work, there are several things we need to address."

"I agree." Ironwood said. "Let's start with your rogue soldier, tell me what happened with her."

"Corporal Fairfire has been heavily demoted, taken off of active duty, and had half a years pay suspended to pay for the psychiatric costs of the man she tried to kill." Richard explained. "If we were back in home space, she would have faced Court Martial, and almost certainly jail time."

Winter and Ironwood both seemed somewhat surprised, although in exactly what context, Richard was not certain.

"Specialist Schnee has pointed out that her latent Semblance may have played a part in her actions, and has volunteered to assist the Corporal with its training." Richard continued.

Ironwood seemed surprised, apparently, he hadn't known that. "Is that true?"

"Yes, it would appear so, Sir." Winter answered, not a hint of nervousness in her voice. "I thought of it when I learned that she's had a previously spotless record, which... might sound familiar, I hope."

Ironwood gave a stern nod at her unspoken statement. "I understand entirely. If it turns out your suspicions are incorrect, I would advise you to abandon your efforts to train her. Either way, I will trust your judgement to handle this matter."

"Thank you, Sir." Winter said.

_Well, that's certainly interesting. I'll have to ask her later if she has more information on what might be happening with Fairfire, I want to hear it._ Richard thought.

"We should also address the prisoners we've taken, your concern for them is certainly justified, as they are technically your citizens." Richard reluctantly admitted. Although he personally wouldn't mind letting them rot in the brig, their fates were not his responsibility. "We have sixty human prisoners in the brig, all from Atlas. I do not believe they would get a fair trial in Atlesian Courts, even if the full extent of available evidence was revealed, you know this as well as I do."

"What's the alternative?" Ironwood asked doubtfully. "Are you going to court-martial sixty foreign citizens? I'll concede that our justice system has its faults, but it's certainly better than placing them under your sole judgement."

_A fair concern._ Richard thought, he did not want to be a tyrant. "I have no intention of court martialing them, they would not get a fair trial from us. Instead, I was going to propose they see justice in another Kingdom, somewhere neutral."

"The Kingdom of Vale then, if we must rely on a third party." Ironwood reluctantly suggested. "They've played no part in this war, and they can certainly handle an influx in cases."

_Huh, I was going to suggest we go to them._ Richard thought, somewhat amused at the coincidence. "I agree, we will ask for their cooperation once this conflict has ended."

"Good." Ironwood said, seemingly satisfied with their agreement. "While we are discussing grievances, I would greatly appreciate being notified of your plans before they happen. I did not know about your most recent operation until half an hour before it happened, which makes it difficult for me to ascertain your intentions."

"We can do that as well, we'll start putting together briefing packages for you and whatever staff you think you can trust." Richard said. "Which leads me to my next point, if we're going to start trusting one another, we're going to put together a plan as to how we're going to end this war."

Ironwood raised an eyebrow, most of the doubt on his face now gone. "I'm listening."

"We need to do more than end this war, we need to get the public on our side, or in your case, regain that trust." Richard said. "I can think of no better way than to show what the SDC has been doing to your media. Every misdeed, every price hike, and of course, the slaves."

_To put out an oil fire, you set off an even bigger explosion right next to it. It'll suck out all of the oxygen, snuff the flame._ Richard thought, remembering a quote from his classes on how to manipulate people from ONI. The hatred and shock from the reveal of the SDC's crimes would be intense, but it would also fade quickly. And if all of Atlas knew what the SDC had been doing, maybe they'd hate them even more than they hated the UNSC, which was a good first step to building relations.

Ironwood immediately shook his head. "All of those negative emotions would bring another wave of Grimm on top of what we're fighting. We'd risk being totally overrun, we can't afford to do that."

"That's in a worst-case scenario, if we plan this carefully, we can avoid that." Richard countered. "If we pick and choose what we release carefully, we might be able to mitigate just how much negativity we end up causing, and keep the Grimm at a manageable level. We'll fly sorties from the Dominion to handle the densest clusters of Grimm, meanwhile, you'll handle the actual defense."

Ironwood still looked uncertain. "That's a big risk to take, especially with Grimm. What if you're wrong, and there's too many for us to take on? We'd need a backup plan, something in reserve."

"The Dominion will act as reserve." Richard answered. "In a worst-case scenario, we'll bring the Dominion into the atmosphere and directly engage the Grimm with our weapons systems. My Marines are weary, but we'd be able to draw the Grimm off of you and give your men a moment to regroup."

That seemed to reassure him somewhat. "That's a good plan, but you would still have the SDC to deal with. Even if we pulled this off, the war wouldn't be over. Even if we consider the DMZ void for the duration of Grimm attacks, I can't let you launch a major strike in the middle of Atlas."

"Then we'll just have to deal with the Grimm first, take our enemies on one at a time." Richard admitted. "We can handle the SDC once Atlas is safe."

Ironwood gave a slight smile, it seemed that his words were having some effect. "I'm glad that we're on the same page, Commander. But we still have a lot of work to do before we actually put this plan into action, and then I'll need to run it past the Council."

"Yes, we do." Richard said. "Lieutenant Bradford, bring up the roster for the airwing, we have some planning to do."

"Aye Sir." his XO said, a rare smile on his face.

"And one last thing, Commander." Ironwood sternly interjected. "If I had a better option than accepting your help, I would take it."

"If I had a better means of proving that we're trustworthy, I'd do that instead of this." Richard replied. "But trust can come later, because the Grimm are everyone's enemy."

"Well put." Ironwood said.

**Beacon Academy**

**October 11th, 1334 local time, 2552**

Normally, the Darter was meant to be used as a cargo hauler, carrying supplies between the mothership and a base on a planet's surface. Ben had previously made a journey riding in the cargo compartment of the spacecraft, and it was far from a comfortable journey. This time however, the only other people aboard were Fireball and her co-pilot, leaving plenty of room in the cockpit for the two Spartans to sit.

"Coming up on Vale now, ETA five minutes." Fireball said. "Technically I could go faster, but I don't think that the civvies are used to that many sonic booms..."

"Good call, take it slowly. We do not want to cause a panic, ideally, only a few people will know that we're here." Jorge said, his voice lacking the familiar alterations of a helmet, as he had removed his.

_I don't know how he can stand that, I feel naked without my armor._ Ben thought. While he was no stranger to taking off his helmet for some fresh air, he preferred to do so privately, Jorge seemed a lot more comfortable with it.

"Roger that Sir. On that note, mind if we take the scenic route, maybe get some good shots of the skyline?" Fireball asked.

Curie immediately voiced her approval. "I would certainly be interested in more architectural data!"

Jorge looked unamused. "We aren't here for a joyride, just get us where we need to be."

"Aye Aye, Sir." Fireball replied, her expression faltering somewhat before suddenly perking back up. "Woah, check out the view."

Ben directed his attention out of the front viewport, and quickly realized what had grabbed her attention. The coastline in the distance was now close enough that the silhouette of a large city could be made out. As they flew closer, Ben noticed a few oddities with the skyline, most notably the lack of skyscrapers. There were a handful of tall buildings, but for the most part, it was like one massive suburb.

"Oh my, how beautiful!" Curie said. It was nice to hear her sound genuinely happy about something.

"It seems... oddly rural." Jorge noted. "Even Atlas had more skyscrapers than this."

"I think it's quite nice, it makes all of the taller buildings seem even more impressive!" Curie protested.

Fireball shifted awkwardly in her seat as she opened up her navigation system. "On that note, I think we're going to the biggest one, that should be Beacon."

"Curie, could you give her a hand?" Ben asked, noticing the pilot's frustrations with navigating.

"Of course." she answered. "There, I've placed a navpoint on your HUD."

Fireball gave a grateful nod as she returned to flying. "Thanks, ma'am. Usually, when I'm flying in a place like this, all of the buildings are on fire... or worse. It's been a nice change of pace, but it also means I need to re-learn urban navigation."

"Careful ma'am, you keep that line of thought up, you might just say something optimistic." her co-pilot cheekily said.

"You watch your tongue there Warrant Officer, I reserve the right to spank you in my cabin!" Fireball countered.

_Oh, brother..._ Ben thought, a quick glance at Jorge's posture revealed that he was similarly exasperated. _We aren't even at the school yet..._

Fireball and her co-pilot continued to bicker as he and Jorge did their best to ignore them. While Jorge technically had the authority to tell them to shut up, he didn't, presumably out of respect for Fireball's position as the commanding officer of the spacecraft. After a few minutes of hapless bickering, they brought the Darter down on one of the landing pads outside of Beacon Academy.

It was a surprisingly large place, so large that it effectively made up a portion of the city itself. The primary thing that stood out to Ben, aside from the elaborate and decorative architecture, was the lack of practically any defensive structures. The whole compound seemed to have a castle-like design, but in terms of defendability, it was severely lacking. Cover was practically nonexistent, as were any chokepoints. The central Spire that presumably held Vale's CCTS tower was also poorly supported, and would likely prove easy to topple with even a moderate degree of firepower.

_I suppose when you have dozens of special forces operatives walking around at all times, it can give you the illusion of security._ Ben critically thought. _Why would they make such avoidable mistakes, aren't they expecting Grimm this close to the edge of the city? Or maybe their defenses just aren't visible from here?_

"Is something wrong?" Curie asked, presumably she had found a fault in one of his Vitals.

"No, well, kind of." Ben awkwardly answered. He and Jorge descended the ladder into the cargo compartment of the Darter, before climbing out onto the landing pad itself. "This place doesn't seem like much of a military installation at all, are you sure we're at the right place?"

"I am quite certain." Curie answered. Behind them, Jorge closed the hatch to the Darter and double-checked that his magnum was holstered properly, Ben quickly did the same with his own weapon. "The Huntsmen are a very loosely organized type of warrior. In many ways, this place is more like a community college than a training camp."

_So they act like civilians, wonderful._ Ben thought, severely lacking the same enthusiasm that Curie had. _Well, maybe I should reserve my judgement, surely they wouldn't give such powerful weapons and abilities to people with lackluster discipline._

Taking a look around, it was very apparent just how right she was. It seemed that only some of the students wore their uniforms, and those who did tended to alter them in some fashion. One girl had added a red cape to her uniform, another seemed to have fashioned their own matching hat to match the uniform. One Faunus girl seemed to have replaced the standard skirt with a set of pants.

_I suppose I can't fault that, there's no tactical reason to bring a skirt into battle. That wouldn't save you from thorns, let alone shrapnel._ Ben thought, suddenly all the more thankful for his armor. "Are we ready, Sir?"

"Just about." Jorge answered, before returning his helmet to his head. He ran a quick inspection of the contents of the satchel he was carrying, before sealing it again. "There, now we're good to go. Curie, which way to the Headmaster's Office?"

"Actually, I believe we were instructed to wait here." she answered. "I've already sent a message to the Headmaster, he should be on his way."

"I see." Jorge acknowledged. "Sergeant, get a look at anything that looks abnormal, we want to record all of this."

"Yes Sir... although I might need another storage drive." Ben jokingly answered.

"Yeah, me too..." Jorge wearily voiced his agreement.

The people were undoubtedly the most interesting thing about the school, and it seemed that the inverse was also true. Stolen glances and quiet murmurs confirmed that he and Jorge seemed to have stolen everyone's attention, although nobody actually approached them. It also seemed like most people carried their weapons along with them, which made it fairly easy to gauge what kinds of equipment people chose to operate.

_Lots of melee weapons._ Ben noted, picking out staffs, swords, spears, a mace, and even a kachi. _Maybe it's a method of ammo preservation? I suppose with an Aura, you could afford to take bigger risks like engaging in hand to hand, especially if you can amplify the effects of the weapon._

"Do you think there's a reason that everyone's out and about instead of in class?" Ben asked, focusing his camera on a statue that displayed two Huntsmen and a Beowolf. There was an inscription written on the base, but he couldn't make out what it said from the angle.

"I believe that everyone is between classes, which also explains why nobody has approached us yet... and why they're all leaving." Curie said, adding the last of her statement with a hint of disappointment.

It seemed that she was right, as most of the students were heading back into the various buildings around the campus. The girl with the red cape from earlier had to be literally dragged along by her white-haired friend, as she was practically frothing at the mouth with excitement at the sight of the Spartans and the Darter.

_I wish I shared the enthusiasm._ Ben thought, remembering that standard protocol back home was to shoot at the aliens, not to make new friends. "Don't worry Curie, I'm sure the Headmaster can answer your questions."

"On that note, That's him." Jorge interjected, pointing out a middle-aged man with silver hair and a green outfit, who was exiting the base of the main tower. "Come on Sergeant, let's get down to business."

"I'll follow your lead." Ben offered, following the more experienced Spartan as they walked to meet the Headmaster halfway.

As they got closer, Ben got a better look at the Headmaster. He didn't look much like a Huntsman at all, more like what he imagined a librarian would look like, with soft brown eyes and an unreadable expression. Still, first impressions were deceiving, and Ben could tell by the manner in which the man carried his cane that he was not the harmless civilian that he looked to be.

_You only grip a weapon like that, or maybe a tool._ Ben noted, feeling a slight uncomfortable twinge in his gut. _Just because he looks harmless doesn't mean he is._

"Good to see you Headmaster." Jorge said, once they were close enough to speak. "Thank you for having us on such a short notice."

"It wasn't a major inconvenience." Ozpin humbly answered. "I take it that this is Sergeant Benjamin?"

"I am." he confirmed, before gesturing towards the back of his head. "And Curie's in my armor, she's-"

"-an Artificial Intelligence, Lieutenant Jorge has already explained everything." Ozpin interrupted, although he seemed to make an effort to do so politely.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Headmaster." Curie said, speaking through Ben's helmet speakers. "I have read a great many things about you."

"The pleasure is all mine, Curie." Ozpin replied. "Speaking with someone over a computer monitor is, at least in my opinion, never the same as being able to speak with them in person. I'm afraid all of my communications with you and your crew so far have been electronic, and regrettably short."

The subtle jab wasn't lost on either Spartan, and Jorge issued their passive-aggressive response. "Yes well, we have a lot on our plate, as you can imagine."

"I didn't mean to imply otherwise." Ozpin said, somewhat apologetically. "I've just been eager to finally discuss things face to face with your people, you've made quite the impact on Remnant."

"Well then, let's get right to it, shall we?" Jorge said. "Do you have somewhere more private we could speak?"

"Of course, my office should do just fine, please follow me." Ozpin answered.

**Salem's Castle**

**October 11th, 2243 local time, 2552**

Sometimes Salem didn't need to sleep, sometimes she did. Her bodily needs were slowly becoming more inconsistent, which was probably a side effect of the meddling of the gods, working in tandem with the Grimm Essence that gave her some of her more unconventional powers. Tonight, it seemed like she had a need to sleep, as she felt a sense of weariness when the Doctor summoned her to his lab to tell her something.

She opened the door with little regard for staying quiet. "Doctor, I sincerely hope for your sake that you have something meaningful to report."

"I am happy to confirm that I do." Watts replied, the smug satisfaction on his face only made less impressive by the utter mess that his lab had become over the last couple of days. "I've been reworking my propaganda web-crawlers to adjust to recent events, and the results speak for themselves."

Watts raised a television remote and pointed at a seemingly random monitor, before turning on some kind of news broadcast.

"-The UNSC has once again denied to comment on their operations across the northern territories. Meanwhile, dozens of missing persons reports for Schnee Dust Company employees have been dismissed by the Council as "unfounded". General Ironwood-"

Watts turned off the monitor. "It's like that on every station, constantly. I've also started introducing the odd piece of lie-riddled pro-UNSC propaganda, only to maul it relentlessly with multiple other accounts. I was inspired by what you said about getting the ball rolling, once you get someone angry, it's easy to get them to lash out."

Salem stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Ever since Watts had joined them, he had always given off the impression that he was still competing for grant money with some unseen competitor. He seemed to revel in his presentations, even though Salem only cared for results.

"What about Atlas, how has the General responded to the crisis on his doorstep?" Salem asked, ignoring his demonstrations.

"With silence." Watts unhappily reported. "I know he's plotting something, but I cannot for the life of me figure out what. They've implemented a new encryption system on certain networks that means I can't see what they're planning."

Salem sighed, that was a big issue. It was indefinitely harder to counter the enemy's actions when they actually knew how to conceal their plans. "Well, you knew him rather well, why don't you give me an educated guess?"

Watts seemed far less certain about his words, but complied nonetheless. "Well, if I didn't know any better, they're bracing for something. Airships are getting their patrol schedules reworked, and the Huntsmen have been working overtime to wear down the Grimm."

"That is what I was afraid of, we won't be able to take on Atlas without people on the inside." Salem said, frustrated by the setback. "Focus your efforts on sewing mutual discontent, and continue to secure whatever information you can on these aliens. We'll have to abandon our plans for Atlas... for now."

"You're pulling back the Grimm?" Watts asked, seemingly displeased. "Well if we aren't targeting Atlas, where do we strike?"

"You worry about doing your job, I will handle the strategizing." Salem stated.

**Beacon Academy**

**October 11th, 1354 local time, 2552**

The biggest obstacle that Jorge and Ben ran into on the way to Headmaster Ozpin's office was the elevator. It simply wasn't strong enough to lift two fully armored Spartans at once, meaning that they had to take two trips. Jorge offered to take the second trip, hoping that Cuire would have an extra bit of time to sweep the tower for any monitoring devices or security threats. He also wanted an extra minute to mentally prepare himself for everything that he needed from Ozpin.

Getting his and Ben's Auras examined was their current priority, and the reason why Ozpin had agreed to speak with them in the first place. But Jorge also had orders to deliver a proposal from the Bridge Crew to the Headmaster, apparently they wanted his cooperation in developing some kind of weapon using Dust. His cooperation was not required, but Jorge was authorized to offer limited technological advances in exchange for his assistance.

_Maybe we should start with capable elevators._ Jorge impatiently thought.

While he waited, he made sure to collect some footage on a map of the campus. There were a few things that he didn't expect to find at the Academy, most notably a Dust Laboratory and a Weaponsmithing Forge.

_So Huntsmen also build weapons? _Jorge thought, before the elevator arrived back at his level.

He briefly looked over the elevator buttons and selected the one highest on the list, as Ozpin had instructed. He gave a brief thought as to why such a slender building would have so many floors, before remembering that without modern urban planning, these kinds of oddities were common.

After around half a minute, the elevator doors opened, and Jorge found himself in Ozpin's office. It was admittedly impressive, with clockwork mechanisms built seemingly haphazardly over the broad windows. The view was also similarly impressive, from this office, most of Vale was visible.

_It's more than just a pleasantry, it's a strategic overwatch._ Jorge noted, perhaps the school had more thought put into it than it initially seemed. Ben also appeared to have noticed the lack of defensive structures, which reassured him that his thinking was justified. He chose to stand next to Ben, only a brief distance in front of Ozpin's desk.

"We should be able to speak freely here." Ozpin said, opting to stand along with the Spartans rather than take a seat. "You said that you two have been having issues with your Auras, something that even a former student of mine couldn't identify."

"That's correct." Jorge said. "She said we have unusually low reserves of Aura."

"I see." Ozpin said, clearly in deep thought. "Bear with me a moment."

He walked behind his desk and retrieved something from one of the drawers. Ben recognized it as similar to the electronic devices that they had found in the possession of the SDC mercenaries.

"This is a scroll. It has a great many uses, but for now, we'll just use this one to try to gauge your Auras." Ozpin explained, opening the device to reveal a hard-light screen.

_I still don't understand how they have hard-light and not spaceflight._ Jorge thought, somewhat annoyed at the seemingly benign use of such valuable technology. "How does that work?"

"Every person has a Soul, and that Soul radiates certain signals." Ozpin explained. "Some of these Signals relate to your Aura, and using a device like this, you can get an idea of how much somebody has."

_That sounds incredibly useful._ Jorge thought, and judging by the slight shift in Ben's posture, he was thinking the same thing.

"That explains a considerable amount of my problems." Curie said, her voice carrying a faint hint of annoyance. "I would not have thought to check background radiation for a person's spiritual essence."

"If it's any consolation, that discovery avoided Remnant's brightest minds for thousands of years." Ozpin said. "But with this, I should be able to get some idea of just how much Aura you have."

Ozpin made several gestures on the scroll, before pausing with a look of extreme confusion. "That can't be right..."

"Is something wrong?" Jorge asked, noting the mildly disturbed expression that now occupied Ozpin's face.

"Well, probably." Ozpin answered. "Depending on which sensitivity I use, you two either have three souls... or one."

"I'm not sure I understand." Jorge said.

"Neither do I." Ozpin admitted.

Ben stepped forward and raised a hand. "Hold on a moment, Mags also felt Curie, remember?"

"She did?" Ozpin asked, seemingly relieved. "So she has a Soul as well..."

"That's our working theory." Jorge said.

_I can't believe I just said that._ Jorge thought in a moment of clarity, not believing the sheer ridiculousness of the situation he now found himself in. Curie notably didn't interject, which made Jorge wonder exactly what she was thinking.

"Well, that explains a worrying amount." Ozpin said. "It seems that Miss Margaret was entirely correct, you two have the lowest reserves of Aura I've ever seen."

"What about me?" Curie asked.

"I couldn't say." Ozpin answered, putting the scroll back on his desk. "Without an activated Aura, I can't tell how much you have. That being said, your Aura seems to be much more powerful than both Jorge and Ben, as it's a lot easier to pick up."

"I... see." Curie answered, a hint of worry in her voice.

"How do we fix ours?" Ben asked.

Ozpin's answer was rather blunt. "You don't."

"But we-" Ben immediately followed up.

"You can't fix what isn't broken, Sergeant." Ozpin elaborated. "Your Auras are perfectly functional, but something in your bodies is obstructing them. An Aura is a physical manifestation of the Soul, while your Soul is fine, it's your bodies that are the problem."

_The Augmentations._ Jorge quietly realized, and judging by the slight shift in Ben's posture, he realized it too.

"It seems that whatever happened to you two, it's affected Sergeant Benjamin the most dramatically." Ozpin continued. "Now, I have no right to intrude upon your private lives, much less your medical history, but without any further information, there's nothing that I can do to help you."

_Hmm, slyly done._ Jorge thought, admiring the finely-executed manipulation that the Headmaster was performing. To anyone who wasn't a Spartan, it might have even worked. But he and Ben were not about to share classified intelligence for the sake of personal gain, even if it may have been strategically justifiable. "Then I'm afraid that we'll just have to make do with what we have."

"Are you certain you want to go into battle with so little Aura?" Ozpin asked, seemingly surprised by Jorge's answer.

"Quite certain, we've done just fine without it." Jorge firmly answered. "Although while I'm here, I also have orders to deliver this."

He reached for the satchel under his arm and opened it, before removing a folder containing a series of papers. He handed it to Ozpin, who took the folder and gave the contents a quick examination.

"What is all of this?" Ozpin asked, seemingly at a lack of understanding.

"We're aware that your organization makes frequent use of an element known as Dust. We're also aware that our conflict with the SDC has jeopardized the global supply." Jorge said. "I believe that the Commander was hoping that the Huntsmen Academies could cooperate to develop a solution."

Ozpin blankly read over the first paper in the stack, before sealing the folder again. "Why the Huntsmen Academies? Surely Atlas has far more research and development capabilities, why not go to them?"

"For a multitude of reasons, but most notably, the Huntsmen Academies are international." Jorge answered. "We don't want to protect Atlas, we want to protect everyone."

Ozpin thought it over, taking another look at the folder, before looking back at Jorge. "I'll need to think this over, and discuss this with the other Headmasters. Do you mind leaving this with me?"

"Not at all." Jorge answered.

"Good. I should have an answer for you shortly, feel free to stay on campus for the time being." Ozpin said, still seemingly taken aback by the offer. "Was there anything else that I could help you with?"

Jorge thought it over, trying to remember if he had forgotten something, when Ben interjected. "Sir, what about Curie?"

"Right." Jorge said, now reminded of their tertiary goal. "We wanted to know what would happen if Curie's Aura was activated."

Ozpin's expression stonified. "I couldn't say for certain. Technically anything that has a Soul can conjure an Aura, but I don't see how someone without a body would actually do that."

"I see." Curie said, her voice clouded with disappointment.

"Oddly enough, it seems that you have the same problem as Ben and Jorge." Ozpin noted. "Your Soul is just one part of an Aura, you also need something to conduct it with. For most people that's their body, their arms or legs, their weapons, even their clothing."

"What about armor?" Ben asked.

"It's certainly possible, but I couldn't say for sure." Ozpin answered. "I would advise talking to someone who knows a bit more about A.I than I do, they might be able to offer you a more helpful answer."

_Mags said the same thing, go to Atlas._ Jorge thought. "We'll take that into account, thank you for your time, Headmaster."

"I'm happy to have you at any time, Lieutenant." Ozpin said.

He and Ben returned to the Darter to await Ozpin's answer. Once they had brought Fireball up to speed, the two of them sat down outside the spacecraft.

"Sir, permission to speak freely?" Ben asked, seemingly out of the blue.

"Granted." Jorge answered.

"Why send Spartans on an op like this?" Ben asked. "We're soldiers, not diplomats or hell, even scientists!"

_Very good question._ Jorge thought, but he still had to address his subordinate's concerns. "Because there's no active combat that we need to respond to, and because we represent a very difficult obstacle to kidnap or assassinate to our enemies."

"I suppose that makes sense." Ben acknowledged. "What about Ozpin, what do you make of him?"

"Well, he's not what I was expecting." Jorge answered. Truth be told, the man made him slightly uncomfortable. He gave off the same general attitude of an overconfident ONI agent who knew they were untouchable.

"I've got a really bad feeling about him... but I can't say why." Ben said, seemingly echoing Jorge's thoughts. "Do you think he's put together what the real problem is with our Auras?"

"No, and it's not our concern to worry about that." Jorge answered. "Our concern is how we're going to beat our opponents in the field."

Ben nodded. "We'll just find a way to achieve victory without Aura."

"Yes, we will." Jorge said.

He was happy that the younger Spartan hadn't pushed the issue, it showed that he had a degree of respect for Jorge's experience and authority. Ben certainly had the mindset of a Spartan, but not the experience.

_That will change._ Jorge thought, well aware that their future missions would not be so easy.


	38. Chapter 38

**Beacon Academy**

**October 11th, 1426 local time, 2552**

The longer Ben spent waiting by the Darter, the more he began to realize just how foreign Beacon Academy really was to him. Curie had been spot on, it was nothing like a military installation, let alone something that they would see back home. It made him slightly uncomfortable for reasons that he couldn't quite pinpoint. Perhaps it was just how surreal everything was, or maybe it was because he wasn't accustomed to being somewhere that everyday civilians might live.

_Not civilians, soldiers._ Ben reminded himself, although the Huntsmen seemed to act more like a police force and a military rolled into one, which was something that Commander Richard had voiced extreme concern about.

Jorge didn't seem to be focused on everything around him, he'd returned his helmet to his head at some point, and he was reading something on his datapad that had secured his focus. Curie's quiet nature meant that she was probably focusing on gathering what data she could, as they were presumably leaving shortly. Ben occupied the time by looking out at the skyline of Vale, it seemed that Beacon had been purposely positioned at a higher elevation to overlook the city, creating an admittedly impressive view.

"Do you mind if I ask you something?" Jorge asked, seemingly out of the blue. He placed his datapad back into its magnetic lock, seemingly frustrated with something.

Ben stopped leaning on the Darter and straightened up his posture. "What is it, Sir?"

"Nothing formal, just a... personal question." Jorge explained. Ben returned to his relaxed posture, taken slightly off guard.

"Uh, sure. What did you want to ask?" Ben awkwardly replied.

"You all ended up here around the start of September, right?" Jorge asked.

"September Tenth." Curie answered. "We then underwent a sublight burn to Remnant for several weeks."

Jorge nodded in understanding. "What was the last report that you got from Reach?"

_Ah, now I understand._ Ben thought, feeling his stomach drop. "I meant to tell you earlier... but I never got a good chance to."

"Spit it out." Jorge grumbled, like he already knew the answer.

"Reach fell." Ben simply said, complying with the instruction.

Jorge froze, he knew what that meant. A human planet being lost meant that it was glassed and that the people on the surface were all dead. And losing Reach meant that the Navy would be knocked off its back foot and effectively flat onto its back.

_A lot of good people went down with Reach, and at least some of Jorge's team were probably among them._ Ben sadly thought. _Still, MIA Spartans aren't dead Spartans. Grey Team went MIA all the time, but they always came back._

"All official military actions were postponed after the catastrophic defeat on August Thirtieth." Curie added, her voice rich with sympathy.

Jorge gave a sad, silent nod. It took him a moment to vocalize a response, which worried Ben a lot more than he had expected. "I think deep down, I already knew that to some degree. I just needed someone to say it like it is, thank you."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Ben offered, not really understanding what to say.

"It's not our concern anymore." Jorge wearily replied. "Everyone back home will have to deal with the consequences of Reach falling... but not us. We're isolated now, in a whole other stretch of reality. We have to stay strong, save whoever's still alive on this wretched rock, maybe even give humanity a chance to live if the worst happens back home."

"Well said." Ben voiced his agreement. Just because they couldn't defend the rest of the Surviving Colonies did not mean they could ignore their duties to protect humanity. If anything, the war with the Covenant made Remnant all the more important.

"There is hope." Curie said. "Before we left Onyx, the rest of Ben's Company completed their training, which means there are another three-hundred and thirty Spartans in the fight."

_That didn't help the Alpha and Beta Companies._ Ben silently thought. Hopefully, the drastic war situation would cause HIGHCOM to exercise a bit more caution with their remaining Spartans. Still, he was happy for her help, she seemed to understand how to reassure people a lot more than he did.

Jorge turned to look at him, and by consequence, Curie. "Thank you, Curie."

He didn't say anything else after that. It surprised Ben just how important Reach apparently was to Jorge, while it was certainly a strategic strongpoint, it seemed like he had a more personal attachment to it. Ben found it difficult to relate, the only planet he had any real history with was Onyx, and to a much lesser extent, Remnant.

_I suppose I wouldn't be happy to hear that Onyx was gone._ Ben thought, giving him some idea of what Jorge was probably going through at the moment.

While Ben had lost things and people that he had cared about, he was so young when it happened that he couldn't remember them all that well. Still, even if it was hard to relate personally, he had sympathy for the older Spartan. He had made the ultimate sacrifice to save Reach and only survived via a fluke event. To hear that it was all for nothing...

Ben shook his head and cleared his thoughts, Jorge would be fine left with his own thoughts. He was a Spartan, and his tenacity would undoubtedly hold strong. Ben needed to keep his mind sharp and his eyes open for Ozpin. The mission took priority, not their personal concerns.

_I wonder how long we're going to be waiting here._ Ben thought, realizing that Ozpin had neglected to give them a timetable as for when to expect his answer.

"Curie, do you know how long something like this is supposed to take?" Ben asked, hoping he didn't come across as too impatient.

"I'm afraid not." Curie answered, her tone making it very clear that she was just as bored as he was. "I could intrude on his camera systems-"

"Don't do that." Jorge softly interjected. "We're acting as representatives right now, is that really how we want them to view the UNSC?"

Curie huffed with indignation. "You act like I'd get caught."

"My order stands." Jorge firmly said.

"There's always a risk for a mission failure, Curie." Ben added, somewhat annoyed by her flagrant objection to a direct order.

She gave a reluctant sigh, much to his relief. "I am well aware, thank you."

"We will wait here, and when the Headmaster is ready to give us his answer, he will inform us." Jorge firmly stated.

The faint lack of patience in his voice told Ben all he needed to know about his thoughts on the situation. Hearing the news about Reach certainly didn't help.

_I'm starting to wonder if sending us really was the best idea._ Ben thought.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 11th, 1434 local time, 2552**

It turned out that the logic behind classifying the different levels of Grimm activity was fairly solid. The standards weren't based around sheer numbers of Grimm, but the threat they posed, as well as how likely a major strike was. While there were certainly some faults in the assignment of those threat levels, it was an impressive system, considering the fact that Remnant lacked administrative A.I.

The Dominion wasn't in much better shape in that regard, now that they were largely operating without Curie. But having recon satellites and scouting packages for the Pelicans still offered them an advantage when it came to gathering data on Grimm movements. Combined with the data from Remnant's Kingdoms, they had a pretty good idea of where the Grimm were and where they were going to be.

The biggest problem that both Richard and General Ironwood faced was trying to decide which targets posed the greatest threat. Richard had immediately volunteered to take on the largest and most armored of the Grimm, well aware that the Dominion's Airwing had both the firepower and the range to eliminate the threats with far more success and safety than the Remnant natives. But the Dominion only had so many aircraft to launch, the Atlesian Airfleet and Army would have to take on the rest.

_If I was standing on the bridge of a carrier, this would be a far different story. A few squadrons of Longswords and Shortswords and I would wipe that continent clean of anything threatening that's bigger than a daisy. _Richard thought, his mind muddled by frustration. He looked at the holotable again, looking at the small models that represented what units were assigned to kill what targets, and gave a mental swear at his sudden inability to think properly.

"Specialist, how big of a threat would you say that a Lancer squadron poses to aircraft?" Bradford asked, noting the presence of a small group of the fliers near a critical waypoint. The holographic model displayed them as some kind of giant insect, which gave Richard a sense of fear that he felt was entirely justified.

"Most Atlesian aircraft would have a bit of trouble fighting them, but your interceptors may be able to outrun them entirely." Winter answered. "If you want my opinion, a Lancer Swarm demands the attention of a Huntsman, preferably someone with a more methodical approach. Guided Missiles are the best way to deal with them, but cannons will do the same job in a pinch."

"I'll ask the General to send some troops, either that or we'll send the Wolverines." Bradford replied after a moment of thought.

"Remember Lieutenant, we don't want to deploy too many of our Marines." Richard stated, noting Bradford's suggestion to use their few self-propelled Anti-Aircraft pieces. "We want to keep most of our ground forces in reserve, just in case we can't keep the Grimm back once they start moving. If there're any incursions around the Atlesian lines, we'll step in to plug the gaps."

_And also we can't lose any more people, so let's throw bombs first and people second._ Richard silently added. Bradford's quiet nod confirmed that he understood the subtle addition to his orders.

"Atlas can handle the fight on the ground." Winter said, the certainty in her voice unwavering. "It's the air that we're going to need help with."

"We only have so many planes." Bradford pointed out, with more than a little frustration in his voice. "Half of our airwing are satellites, and most of them don't even carry weapons!"

"Why not use your ship's missiles?" Winter snobbily asked. "I was under the impression that they have considerable range."

"They do, but range isn't the problem." Bradford argued. "Most of our missiles are loaded with armor-piercing warheads, which aren't exactly built for strategic bombardment like you're proposing."

Winter seemed irritated by his answer. "Well, do you have a better option?"

"Both of you, cool it." Richard firmly said, there was enough bickering on his Bridge, and it seemed like Winter and Bradford caused most of it. "We'll use our old Trebuchet missiles instead, this is what they were built for. That should kill off enough ground targets that you'll be able to re-equip some of your aircraft to fight in the sky instead."

Bradford seemed doubtful. "We won't be able to replace those, Sir."

Richard understood the man's concern, even if his delivery could use a bit more grace. Any kind of large scale weapon was totally irreplaceable to the UNSC, at least for the time being. They could make small arms and ammo without any trouble, their foundries were specifically built around replenishing the equipment of Marines. But something like an orbital support missile was much more complex, and the manufacturing facilities simply did not exist on the Dominion, nor on Remnant.

_It's not like we can go ask the Innies for their missiles. _Richard thought with a hint of amusement, remembering one occurrence over the colony of Minab where that very thing had happened.

"Keeping Atlas safe takes priority." Richard countered. "Preserving munitions is critical to our long term goals, but we also need to be careful not to be too stingy with what we do have. We aren't going to let a Kingdom be threatened by Grimm while we're still flying."

"Aye Sir." Bradford voiced his compliance and agreement. Winter gave Richard a silent nod of thanks, which he returned.

"But while we're on that note, we should consider deploying microslugs." Bradford continued.

"Microslugs?" Winter asked. It seemed that even though she was doing her best to bring herself up to speed on the UNSC's equipment, she hadn't studied that particular topic yet.

Bradford adjusted his posture to better prepare himself for Winter's inevitable protest, Richard did the same. "It's an old trick, from back in the day where you could only carry three or four MAC slugs on a ship. You take a far small projectile, something you can crudely fashion in a backyard forge, and load it into the ship's main MAC gun."

Winter remained silent while he spoke, giving him her undivided attention. It made Richard slightly uncomfortable how nervous the Remnant natives became whenever the MAC gun was brought up.

"Give it a bit of framework so that it's got the same accuracy of a normal slug, and you have yourself a cost-effective way of offering fire support from orbit. You typically only fire it at around half power, otherwise, you start playing with the accuracy a bit too much to be safe." Bradford concluded.

"The main cannon?" Winter asked doubtfully, once she was certain he was done speaking. "Are you sure you wish to deploy something like that again? Surely that isn't necessary..."

_Remnant's going to have to get their minds around WMDs at some point..._ Richard thought, dreading the day that would inevitably happen. _...But not today._

"The impact has more in line with an artillery barrage, rather than what you saw earlier." He said, hoping to quash her fears. "Believe me, I'm not any more eager to throw out our MAC slugs than you are. In the ungodly event the Covenant ever does show up... we're going to need them."

Winter's expression very much so reflected the seriousness of his statement. She knew better than anyone else from Remnant what the Covenant could do, he'd shown her enough glassed planets to make sure of that. Hopefully, his harsh honesty would make it through her pride, and that she would indirectly give Ironwood second thoughts about his fear of the weapon.

"As for using microslugs, we don't currently have any, we'd have to make them first." Richard pointed out. "Our Foundry is busy, so we'd need to get them from somewhere else."

Bradford frowned as he quickly realized the deadline for the operation meant that they wouldn't have time to do that. "We'll shelve that idea then. What about Onyx Team, maybe we could-"

Richard shook his head. "They're either busy, exhausted, or in Sickbay. They'll need at least a few days before we put them in the field again. Not to mention that with Fairfire off the roster, their unit strength is going to be even weaker."

"I'll see to her once Atlas is safe." Winter reassured him. "But for now, myself and Mags have our work cut out for us. We have six platoons of troops to teach how to use their Auras properly... and they're a bit... rowdy."

"Yeah, that's to be expected." Bradford said, with a rare look of empathy. "I'm surprised that you and her work together so well, given that-"

"What, because she's a Faunus?" Winter snapped at the subtle accusation, but did not do so in a manner that would throw off her professional demeanor. "Anyone who goes through the training to become a Huntress has my respect, that takes a degree of valor, no matter what race she may be."

_Respect through sweat and bloodshed, I guess that makes some sense._ Richard thought, although some of Winter's insensitive comments did tend to rub the crew the wrong way. _Maybe a trip down Earth's history of racial violence will change that._

"I understand." Bradford said, evidently surprised by her abrupt and deliberate response. "But let's get back on topic. We have four more ground-based targets here, and no assets to spare for them."

Richard sighed, he could ignore the obvious solution no longer. "Then we bring the Dominion into high-atmosphere, and we use the Point-Defense Guns to eliminate them."

"I thought we were keeping the Dominion in reserve?" Bradford asked, seemingly surprised by his decision.

"That was before I realized just how much we're trying to kill in a single coordinated strike." Richard explained. "Should Atlas come under threat, we'll redirect the Dominion to cover it. If it doesn't, then we have no excuse to not be where we're clearly needed."

Both of them looked at him as they took in his words. It was a risky plan, that went without saying, but they were trying to kill a large amount of Grimm in a very short amount of time, and risks were simply inherent to battle. Neither of them looked entirely convinced by his words, and Ironwood still hadn't given his signature to the operation.

"Well, I hope it goes as well as the last time you took on the Grimm with your vessel." Winter said, straining for a bit of hopefulness. "Now, if that's everything, I can send the plan down to the General."

"Do it." Richard instructed. "If he sees any flaws or a way to do any of this more efficiently, let me know, and I'll adjust our strategy accordingly."

As she left, Bradford turned to Richard with a concerned look on his face. "I know you stand by your decisions, and I will carry out your orders. But I do have some concerns, if you'd care to hear them."

Richard nodded, giving him the signal to continue.

"It's going to be a decade or so before we can start manufacturing some of these assets, this is a very big risk." Bradford said. "God help us if we lose even a single bird, half the damn components aboard those things are going to need factories to build the machines capable of making the parts, and that's not including the fusion reactors."

Richard sighed. "We have to take the risk. Bailing Atlas out of this mess is the first step to rebuilding relations, if we don't do that, we'll never get a chance to replace our equipment in the first place. Not to mention, we do not want Atlas as an enemy, even if the threat they pose to the Dominion itself is negligible."

"I understand Sir." Bradford confirmed. "I just want you to be aware of some of the more subtle consequences of decisions like this, it's my job to keep you informed, after all."

"And you do your job very well." Richard replied. "Now, let's deal with some of the finer details."

**Beacon Academy**

**October 11th, 1451 local time, 2552**

There were only so many times that Ben could appreciate Beacon's architecture before he admitted he was bored. So when Ozpin called them back to his office, Ben found his earlier reluctance to be acting as a diplomat rapidly disappear. After another brief period of frustration operating the lackluster elevator, he and Jorge stood before Ozpin once again.

"Thank you for your patience gentlemen, I just wanted to make sure that my peers were on the same page as I am." Ozpin said. "After a bit of debate and a brief call with Lieutenant Oswald, I can safely say that all four Huntsmen Academies will offer our support to your project."

"And we're happy to have you." Jorge said, his voice dry and professional. "I recognize that from an outsider's perspective, some of our actions may have been a bit questionable-"

Ozpin raised a hand to interrupt him. "Lieutenant Thomas has already explained your motivations, as well as what you hope to achieve. I will admit, outfitting every Huntsmen on Remnant with better ammunition was a very hard proposal to ignore."

_Well, that's unexpectedly honest._ Ben thought, noting the change in the Headmaster's demeanor. Whatever had changed, it was subtle, so much so that he didn't even notice it specifically. But the shift was there, and it made him a bit uneasy. Jorge seemed to notice something as well, as it clearly influenced his next words.

"Humanity is going to need better equipment if we're going to stay alive on this planet. Ammunition is just the start of that, I hope you realize." Jorge stated, his voice firm and unflinching.

Ozpin nodded, although he looked uncertain as to what exactly Jorge was leading up to. "Of course, but I believe that with your help, we'll be able to achieve that."

"I certainly hope so, Headmaster." Jorge said. "You have read about what we recovered from the Schnee Dust Company Archives, right?"

"I'm afraid I have." Ozpin reluctantly answered. "They developed an entirely new type of Dust, but they discarded the invention in the name of profits."

"That one decision has likely cost your planet tens of thousands of lives, conservatively." Jorge stated. "So I would encourage you to keep in mind that we are not aiming to give just the Huntsmen Academies superior ammunition, we are aiming to deliver this upgrade universally."

To his credit, Ozpin stood his ground very well. "I am well aware of that, Lieutenant. I've ensured that I am completely aware of everything that our agreement entails, and I have agreed with the terms you have given me."

"Good, I just wanted to make sure you were aware of that." Jorge said.

"There was one last thing, before you go." Ozpin said. "Lieutenant Oswald asked that I tell you to contact him when you were done speaking with me."

"Understood." Jorge answered. "Was that all you had to say, Headmaster?"

He adjusted his glasses and took one last look at the Spartans. "I believe so, Lieutenant. Take care on the trip back home, the Grimm can be smarter than you think."

"We'll certainly keep that in mind." Jorge said. "Come along Sergeant."

One annoying elevator ride and a short walk saw the Spartans arriving back at the Darter. They quickly brought Fireball and her co-pilot up to speed and joined them in the cockpit to contact Thomas.

"You should be good to go Sir." Fireball said, patching the transmission through to Jorge's helmet.

"Dominion, this is Onyx Actual, do you read?" Jorge asked, double-checking the connection.

"I read you loud and clear." Thomas confirmed, his voice giving off the impression of frustration even without being able to see his body language. "Bring me up to speed, is Ozpin with us?"

"All four Huntsmen Academies have signed off on the terms you prepared for them." Jorge relayed.

Thomas gave a sigh of relief. "Finally, some good news. But I'm afraid I need you back aboard the Dominion ASAP. As soon as I've issued my orders for Curie and Sergeant Benjamin, you are to return at best speed."

"Aye Sir." Jorge confirmed. "Was that all you had for me?"

"Yes, now Sergeant, I have a very critical assignment for you." Thomas stated.

_Finally, back to the fight._ Ben thought, happy to not be sitting on his hands anymore. "I'm all ears, Sir."

"Curie's presence is required to oversee the development of Remnant's new ballistic propellant, I need you to stay at Beacon and provide her with security and assistance." Thomas said. "Whatever she needs, make sure it happens, do you understand?"

Ben frowned, that couldn't be right. "Repeat your last, Sir?"

Thomas repeated himself, with an added tone of annoyance. "Did you catch that, Sergeant?"

_He's serious._ Ben realized with a hint of annoyance of his own, it looked like he would be staying at Beacon after all. But regardless of how he felt about the assignment, it was not his place to question a direct order. "Loud and clear, Sir."

"I am going to require some material and equipment from the Dominion to begin my experiments." Curie interjected on their exchange. "I will need to perform trials as to what exact mixture is going to work best."

"Resupply flights will carry whatever you need, but right now, your orders are to work with the Headmaster to begin modernizing their on-site Dust Laboratory." Thomas instructed. "Please try to show the Professors some courtesy, this is a university as much as it is a boot-camp."

"I shall be as polite as I can be." Curie pointedly replied. "For now, I will see what we have to work with here, and send requests for anything else."

"Good." Thomas said. "Sergeant, there should be a field telephone somewhere in the Darter's cargo compartment. Take it and do not let it out of your sight, under any circumstances. Arm the remote self-destruct and have Curie detonate it if you lose it, we'll be in touch."

Ben understood the added caution, losing a field telephone on Remnant could have potentially disastrous consequences. The hardware alone was more powerful than any supercomputer on Remnant, but the real danger was in the software. Any skilled technician would likely be able to form their own encryption from it, and while they wouldn't be able to read any of the UNSC's transmissions, the UNSC would lose their intelligence advantage. "Yes Sir. Do you have any further remarks?"

"...Try not to piss off the Headmaster, or the locals or... just lay low and do your job." Thomas said. "Dominion out."

In that moment, Ben understood that Thomas also recognized the sheer lunacy of assigning a Spartan away from the frontline. While Ben certainly understood that Curie was needed for the project, and he had standing orders to protect her, surely she could perform her duties remotely?

Jorge looked to him with a bit of sympathy, he understood how Ben felt probably better than anyone else on Remnant. "Well Sergeant, you have your orders."

"Yes Sir." Ben dryly replied, before descending the ladder into the cargo hold.

"Hey, don't be so discouraged! This could be fun!" Curie said, seemingly taken a bit off guard by his reluctance to stay behind. "Besides, it's been quite some time since we've had a chance to talk to one another."

"That's certainly true." Ben replied as he grabbed the field telephone and dismounted the Darter. "Although we'll probably be keeping busy."

He felt an uncomfortable pit in his stomach as the spacecraft flew away, something he hadn't felt about his orders since his first year of training. It wasn't a feeling of fear or dread, but wariness about the unknown. Beacon felt just as much like a minefield as the actual simulated ones that he had cleared during training.

**Salem's Castle**

**October 11th, 0023 local time, 2552**

Controlling the Grimm was not something that Doctor Watts could do, that ability lay solely on Salem's shoulders. Her plans in Atlas had already been in limited scope, so recalling the Grimm that she had coerced into areas around the floating city was the only major strategic motion to be made. A small part of Watts was happy to have the Grimm away from his former home, but it was a small, insignificant and irrational part of his brain. Atlas was no home to him anymore, they had made sure of that.

Although if he was being honest with himself, he was uncomfortable with the idea of controlling Grimm. He had seen what that desire for control had done to a former colleague of his, and he worried that Salem may follow the same path as that man. But his personal worries and thoughts were of secondary importance to his work, but that was something he had never had a problem with.

_I'm just glad somebody appreciates my talents!_ Watts thought. Working for Salem wasn't perfect by any means, but it was light-years better than working under Ironwood.

His specialties were far more subtle in nature. While Salem tended to manipulate people directly, he preferred to do so in a more non-linear fashion. Rather than telling a person something, it was sometimes more powerful to plant a seed of doubt in their minds, and the CCTS was the perfect tool with which to do it. He could manipulate what millions of people saw on a daily basis, a power any world leader would make good use of, let alone a professional scientist like himself.

Salem had long preferred a more subtle approach to accomplishing her goals, ironically a direct contrast to how she preferred to deal with people. She was intelligent, and she knew that a direct battle to storm any of the Kingdoms wouldn't get her any of the Relics she was looking for. Instead, she would weaken the Kingdoms and erode Ozpin's defenses, opening the way for a more surgical infiltration to steal the relics, all while looking for the Maidens with which to open them. Watts filled a very important part in both goals, as his technical knowledge became all the more relevant every day.

Remnant was very slow to adapt computer technology, even Atlas showed sluggishness in utilizing the latest advances, which was something that he exploited as far as he could. Slow technological advancement and a dreadful public education system meant that most of Atlas still barely understood the concept of hacking, let alone how easy it had become in the modern age. The other Kingdoms were even less knowledgeable on the subject, and Menagerie had only recently become reconnected to the system at all, making them an easy target.

One computer worked slowly, so he had long since distributed programs that sapped the processing power of other poorly-protected systems for his own use. Menagerie becoming connected so suddenly meant that he was able to add a good deal of extra computational ability to his arsenal. While it was hardly a significant contribution, it was something he hadn't anticipated to have.

Currently, he had two major programs running across his systems, each designed to address a major concern. The first was the ongoing propaganda influx designed to goad the UNSC and Atlas against one another, which appeared to have some effect on the general populace. But it would only have limited effectiveness without some physical evidence backing up his false claims about the UNSC's true intentions, and the Atlesian Server Admins were beginning to recognize the patterns of his web-crawlers, forcing him to adapt them with unproven code.

Atlas was fairly easy to get stirred up, he knew from personal experience that the Atlesian Elite would choose the ability to complain and bicker over the ability to breathe if pressed to pick one. The other Kingdoms, however, had less pronounced social issues, and that made manipulating them far more difficult. Menagerie proved to be an unexpected thorn in Watt's side, as it seemed like the UNSC was quite popular with the public.

_The difference in perspective is quite interesting, and solid evidence I'm doing well._ Watts thought.

The best example so far was a pair of headlines from two articles, one from Menagerie and the other from Atlas. They both described the same event, albeit in far different terms. The Atlesian article talked about how the UNSC had kidnapped three-hundred civilians, and the Menagerie article talked about how the UNSC had rescued three-hundred slaves from SDC custody. A little bit of search-engine manipulation and he was able to make everything that opposed the UNSC appear front and center on the webpages of every Atlesian Citizen.

The second task he was working on, and in his mind, the far more important one, was to experiment with the obviously alien encryption systems that he had acquired from Headmaster Lionheart. Ironwood was clearly being careful with distributing the software, but he only needed to make one single mistake to collapse the effectiveness of his plan. Unfortunately for Watts, there was nothing he could do to stop Atlas from upgrading to the alien systems, and the now-reinforced cyberdefenses of Atlas would likely prove uncrackable unless he could develop a way to counter the alien systems.

_Now, let's see how this works._ Watts thought, finally completing the download of the data from Mistral. It was a truly goliath file, capable of filling four and half Scrolls to their maximum storage limits, and even then it was heavily compressed. _Well, for starters, it seems they probably have better hard drives._

Upon examination, it seemed that the encryption algorithms themselves were surprisingly simple, given their incredible capabilities. By Remnant's standards, the defenses were completely fool-proof, he could chip away at it for a thousand years and come no closer to penetrating the defenses of the software. Watts had to admit, it was some extremely impressive stuff.

One thing he couldn't determine was whether or not the aliens had left a backdoor in the program for their own clandestine use, which left him with some doubts as to its true infallibility. Still, implementing the system for his own use was an easy decision, as it left the UNSC as the only potential party who could breach his systems. Any other of their enemies on Remnant, notably Ozpin and his goons, would have no chance at penetrating his systems.

_I just have to lay a low profile, I do not want to know what kind of intrusion software they have aboard that starship of theirs._ Watts thought, keeping in mind what he knew about the aliens.

He had kept a very close eye on the hacking attacks launched by the UNSC against the SDC, and they were truly terrifying. It added another piece of evidence to his theory that they employed A.I in some major capacity, as no single human would be able to perform so many strikes at the same time, and with such a small margin for error. Wherever the UNSC had come from, they weren't just used to Cyberwarfare, they had mastered it.

It became increasingly apparent to him as he looked at the source code that this was something that he was never truly going to be able to effectively fight. Cyberwarfare had for years been a developing field on Remnant, but the UNSC had accelerated it to the umpteenth degree. Watts frowned and closed the window, he had seen enough.

"Well, that puts a damper on things." Watts said to himself, more frustrated than anything.

Months of work had gone into perfecting the Black Queen Virus, and it was now faced with becoming obsolete overnight. Salem already had to adjust her plans, but now, she would have less options. If Watts was going to keep his job, and potentially his life, he would need something that changed the field of battle in their favor.

"If one solution doesn't solve your problem... try another." He muttered to himself, looking across his various half-completed projects for something that might be able to help. Finally, his eyes rested upon a long-deceased robotic predecessor to the Atlesian Paladin, and his genius mind granted him another boon. "...Yes, that will work."

**Beacon Academy, Dust Laboratory**

**October 11th, 1532 local time, 2552**

It suddenly made a lot more sense as to why Beacon had such an extensive chemistry lab once Ben realized the true purpose of the building. It did not serve in any true capacity as a classroom, but rather an ammunition production facility. Almost every Huntsman or Huntress used Dust in their weapons, so having the facilities on hand to reform or modify the different kinds of Dust made quite a lot of sense. It seemed that most students already knew how to create their own ammo long before they came to Beacon, which gave him and Curie a bit more insight into their training.

The building itself was positioned on the outskirts of the Campus, likely as a safety measure. It wasn't all that dissimilar to the chemical labs back at Camp Currahee, where he and his fellow Cadets had learned how to operate explosives and in some limited cases, even create them. Sadly, it seemed like the lab would need some serious safety upgrades to handle even rudimentary plastic explosives, it was clearly designed around handling Dust.

_At least it can handle the powder we're using for this stuff._ Ben thought, noting how Curie was still listing off all of the different things that they would need to do in order to produce the new type of gunpowder. _It seems like the biggest thing we're going to need is a proper bunsen burner, or maybe just a hydrogen torch._

Several other students were making use of the equipment, but they all gave him and Curie a wide, nervous berth, which he respected. There was however, one notable exception, the girl with the red cape from earlier, who was trying and failing to sneakily get a better look at him. Now that she was closer, he was able to make out more of her features, like how she seemed to prefer combat boots over traditional shoes.

_That's certainly more respectable than the poor bastard who chose to wear high heels into battle._ Ben thought. Curie had actually had to explain the decorative shoes to him, as he had never seen such bizarrely impractical footwear before. _They'll probably get what they deserve, the battlefield is not a fashion contest._

Ben personally placed very little importance on someone's personal appearance, so the thing that stood out the most to him about the girl was how young she was. She couldn't be much older than he was, although, without the augmentations of a Spartan, she actually looked her age.

_So maybe there are some kids like me here._ Ben thought, thinking back to his earlier speculation about the Huntsman Academies. _How many kids here have grievous scars and dead loved ones? When do they even start their training?_

She was very bad at subtly catching glimpses of him as he worked. To her credit, she tried to conceal her true intentions in her work, but it was very clear that she just wanted a better look at him. At first, Ben tolerated the curious gazes, a degree of curiosity was healthy, but now it was starting to become uncomfortable. It was especially concerning how she looked at his sidearm, with an expression of unconcealed hunger and what Ben could only guess was affection.

"Ben, calm down, she's not going to shoot you." Curie privately told him, her tone giving the impression that she was utterly exasperated. "Or are you just afraid of teenage girls now?"

"It's not her I'm worried about, it's this whole school." Ben replied, although she certainly wasn't helping his paranoia.

"What is so bad about it?" Curie asked. "I think it is quite nice, I was getting very tired of looking at titanium corridors. Not to mention that you could really do with some time away from your duties."

Before he could even answer, flashes of all of the terrible things he'd seen on Remnant appeared before his eyes. It was a gruesome reminder that sitting out his duties was not an option. "No, I can't just ignore my assigned duties."

"Well, I certainly recognize that." Curie said. "But you seem to be under the impression that you have somewhere else that you need to be."

"I should be in Solitas, killing whatever's left of the SDC." Ben said. "Deploying a Spartan to act as a chemist is a dramatic waste of resources."

"Is that right?" Curie asked. "You're not here to act as a chemist, you're here to make sure that nobody interferes with my work."

Ben placed the Dust he was holding back onto the table, he didn't want to be distracted while holding a volatile compound. "Well that's a low-risk assignment, Spartans aren't meant to be sent on easy missions."

"If Commander Richard had a better use for you, you would be there and not here." Curie pointed out. "Do you really have so little faith in the man? He practically raised you!"

"Everyone's prone to bad decisions, even the best of us." Ben argued. "I trust Richard with my life, but that doesn't mean he's infallible."

_He's told me enough about his past service to put that together._ Ben thought. _Still, he's a hell of a friend._

"I don't think you realize just how much you're straining yourself." Curie said, apparently abandoning her previous argument.

"I'm a Spartan, we don't get strained." Ben argued.

"You are a human, yes you do." Curie calmly replied. "Please, just…. give Beacon a chance, would you? If not for yourself, then do it for me."

Ben gave a deep sigh, an argument with Curie really was unwinnable. "Fine. What is it you'd like me to do?"

"Well for starters, that young woman clearly has a few questions." Curie said. Ben realized that the girl who was watching him had moved one station closer. "It would be the least we could do to answer them."

Ben shook his head slightly. "We have work to do."

"Work that we cannot do until Command sees fit to deliver the materials I have requested." Curie countered. "Besides, maybe she could offer us some assistance. If her personnel file is any indicator, she has plenty of experience with firearms."

"You think the teenage girl is going to be able to help us develop the most powerful propellant that Remnant has ever seen?" Ben asked. He trusted Curie's judgement, but he had clearly lost some crucial piece of information while talking to her. "Wait… you pulled her file?"

"Teenage boys in powered armor shouldn't be making presumptuous arguments." Curie pointedly argued, ignoring his question. "She has undergone a similar set of training to you, albeit considerably less... effective."

_Yeah, brutal doesn't seem like the right word. They might not run the callisthenics as hard out here, but I never got told to fight demons with nothing but a smile and the clothes on my back._ Ben thought, recalling a bulletin board which mentioned hand-to-hand combat classes against live Grimm, which were apparently rather popular amongst the students. "So, what do you want me to do?"

"Say hello." Curie simply answered. Ben looked over his shoulder, catching her looking at him once again, which she seemed slightly ashamed of.

Ben let out a sigh and switched on his helmet's microphone. "You know, you can just ask."

She gave a faint sound of panic after he spoke, before the impact of his words reached her brain. "Wait... really?"

"Of course." Ben said, ignoring his doubts and trying to give the young woman a chance to say what it was that she wanted to say. As it turned out, she had plenty to say.

The subsequent bombardment of questions and enthusiastic statements was so thick that it was almost meaningless. Curie privately laughed as Ben struggled to deal with the incredibly awkward situation that he'd managed to find himself in. She asked about his armor, his weapon, his visor, his headlamps, and a multitude more things.

_If she asks me if I've ever killed anyone, I'm done with this._ Ben thought, with a hint of annoyance.

"Stop." Ben interrupted, causing her to pause mid-sentence. "Take a deep breath, and start from the beginning again, slowly."

She took a very deep breath. "I uh, sorry. I get a little carried away sometimes."

"Don't we all." Ben offered her an out for the awkward first impression. "What's your name?"

"Ruby, Ruby Rose." She said. "Are you an alien?"

"Don't you think that might be considered a rude question?" Ben asked, causing her to pout slightly. "Relax, I'm only joking. I'm a human, but I have met aliens before."

Her silver eyes lit up with excitement. "I knew it! You're one of those... uh... united something space command people!"

"United Nations Space Command, specifically the military branch." Ben said, helping her string together the thought. "I'm Sergeant Benjamin, and I'm here with my partner to develop a new kind of propellant in conjunction with the Huntsman Academies."

_I feel like an Army recruiter._ Ben thought.

"Your... partner?" Ruby asked doubtfully, having long since noticed that he was alone. "Where is he?"

"She's right here." Ben answered, withdrawing Curie's datachip and letting her display her hologram on the table.

"Hello Madame Rose, I am Curie. I am-" Curie began, but was subsequently bombarded by another volley of questions for Ruby.

Ben gave a quiet chuckle at his petty revenge as Curie awkwardly tried to answer every single one of the girls' questions, but it was a losing fight. Ruby did seem to immediately grasp the concept that Curie was an A.I, which was more than most natives of Remnant had done.

"Wait, hold on!" Ruby said, suddenly bringing herself to a pause. "You said you're developing... propellant?"

"Ballistic propellant, specifically a combination of Dust and smokeless gunpowder." Ben answered. "Curie thinks that we can use this to help alleviate your planet's reliance on Dust, and give your weapons an upgrade in the process."

"Dust has extremely prohibitive costs and ballistic properties, it is a terrible form of propelling ammunition." Curie added. "We hope to retain the unique elemental abilities, such as manipulating gravity and encasing your target in ice."

_I still can't believe you can do that._ Ben thought. _I wonder what Lieutenant Ambrose would do if I handed him a bullet that made people float away._

"That... sounds... awesome!" Ruby enthusiastically said. "Can I help?!"

"Sure, do you have an industrial-grade fusion torch I can borrow?" Ben jokingly asked, although it appeared that the joke went over her head. "That was a joke, realistically, we can't really do anything until we get some supplies delivered from our ship."

"Oh." Ruby said, clearly disappointed. "Well, maybe I could show you around Beacon? I'm sure you have all sorts of questions!"

_I've never seen someone rebound from a look of dejection so quickly._ Ben thought.

"I do not see what other task we have that would take precedence over that." Curie replied.

"We could familiarize ourselves with Beacon's equipment." Ben suggested. Curie seemed to disapprove, but Ruby seemed elated.

"Absolutely! Here, let me go get some safety goggles!" Ruby said, before she did something that caught Ben very off-guard. She seemingly exploded into a floating cloud of flower petals, before that cloud flew away at such a speed that he had trouble tracking it even with the advantage of Spartan Time.

As Ben examined the trail of flower petals that she left behind, Curie noticed how confused he was. "That is Miss Roses Semblance."

"I... see." Ben said, trying to fight off his ever-growing headache. "So uh, when do I learn how to do that?"

"Presumably never, everyone has a unique Semblance. I have been monitoring everyone aboard the Dominion, and so far, I have only discovered the Semblance of one Marine." Curie explained. "You will simply have to wait until yours makes itself apparent."

Ben let out a silent sigh of relief, he preferred his body to be one single piece, preferably encased in armor. "Well, I guess that I'll keep my eyes peeled."

Ruby returned shortly after he was done speaking, now wearing a set of oversized goggles. "Ready!"

"What's the point of protective eyewear if you Aura absorbs any damage?" Ben asked.

Ruby awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "Well, just because your eyes aren't actually getting hurt, doesn't mean it's not painful, ya' know?"

Ben, in fact, did not know that, but it was a valuable piece of information to digest. "I think I understand."

"Good, then let's get to work!" Ruby said.

**Author's notes: I just want to briefly address some concerns that some readers will inevitably have in advance. I have no intentions of falling into the stagnant stereotypes typical of some Halo/RWBY crossovers. The Men From Onyx is something I am proud to say is unique from its peers, not just in the areas it explores, but in how it focuses on larger scale conflicts that affect a broader amount of people.**

**That being said, I would encourage you to remember that you are reading a Halo/RWBY crossover, and it wouldn't be much of a crossover without featuring the main cast in any sort of role, however minor it may be.**


	39. Chapter 39

**UNSC Dominion, Sickbay**

**October 11th, 2232 local time, 2552**

Sickbay was always quiet, no matter the circumstances. There could be hundreds of wounded lined up outside the office of a single Medical Officer, and it would be just as quiet as if the room was full of some chatty janitors. Nathan knew from experience that if everyone in Sickbay was making noise, they were probably about to die anyway.

Apparently it wasn't always like that. His Cousins had told him harrowing stories about his ancestors, who had been some of the very first Helljumpers. Apparently Triage was a lot louder before modern painkillers were invented, along with some clever soundproofing for medical installations. Privately, Nathan was happy for the quiet, but found it a bit eerie.

Unfortunately, Elizabethy Fairfire wasn't supposed to be quiet, yet she had been deathly silent for some time. Nathan had experienced depression before, albeit under some different circumstances, and never to the same degree as her. It took him a few years of drinking and a few harsh knocks to the head to realize that brewing your brain in a toxic cesspool of self-loathing didn't actually accomplish shit.

He knew from personal experience that helping someone out of a depressed stupor was possible, but he had no idea how to go about doing that. How did you tell someone who had done something terrible to stop feeling bad about it? There was a small, undeniable part of Nathan's brain that told him "this is how you're supposed to feel after you fuck up that badly", but he did his best to ignore it.

_She was reprimanded, she's paid the price for her actions._ Nathan thought to himself. _You aren't supposed to throw in the towel after one mistake, she's a Helljumper for god's sake!_

He paused at his last thought, an idea striking his mind. "Hey Liz, I've gotta question."

She looked up at him with a dazed expression on her face. "Yeah?"

He fought the instinctual urge to ask if she was alright, well aware that she plainly wasn't and that the question wasstupid and unwelcome. "Why did you join the Helljumpers?"

A light lit up in the back of her eyes, and Nathan could tell he'd partially derailed whatever unhelpful and undoubtedly miserable train of thought she had previously had. She'd always held some pride in that legendary title, and it rubbed off on the rest of the squad long before they'd been stuck on Concord, let alone on Remnant.

_Good, now I've just gotta keep her focus._ Nathan thought.

"Well, I joined the Marines because I wanted revenge, especially after we lost Emerald Cove." Fairfire answered. Nathan could tell the topic was a sore one, but she answered his question firmly. "After about a year in the Corps, I found myself liking it, and I decided to throw in with the ODST applicants. I didn't actually expect to get accepted, but I did."

Nathan nodded with understanding. "Yeah mine went something like that too. I heard the selection process was really stringent, but maybe they're just desperate for recruits?"

Fairfire gave a huff of amusement. "Well there's certainly competition, but they've probably done their best to keep the standards high. There's plenty of Marines who'd rather be wearing that nice set of black armor than some standard BDU's... What about you, how'd your wise-ass end up in the Corps?"

"I signed some paperwork." Nathan replied, answering the unspoken challenge to make an ass out of himself.

She gave a somewhat inspired chuckle, which made him feel like his strategy was working. "Well now, I probably should've seen that coming. But really, why'd you enlist?"

Nathan sighed, that would inevitably bring up an awkward topic. "Uh... family pressure."

She didn't seem satisfied. "What, like finances? It ain't nothing to be ashamed of if your family had some troubles."

He gave a mental curse at himself. While he'd succeeded in getting her mind out of its depressed state, she was far too persistent for him to dodge the issue of his personal life back home. "No, more like... family pressure."

She nodded in understanding. "Ah, so you've got a bit of history to your name?"

He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, he was going to have to admit some uncomfortable things, and he knew it. "Uh, yeah, sort-of."

Fairfire looked positively unamused "Nathan come on, I ain't gonna laugh, what is it?"

She spoke with her definitive no-nonsense tone of voice, and Nathan reluctantly relented. "Well, my Grandpa made General during the fight on Harvest. My dad joined the ODSTs shortly after, my mom joined the Air Force after him, my brothers all joined the Wet-Navy, so I dropped out of school and joined up to become a Marine."

"Huh, I never would have pegged you as the type for having a military family." Fairfire said. "How're they doing?"

He clenched his jaw, thinking of the best way to describe it. "We uh... didn't exactly part on the best terms. I... haven't really heard from them in a while."

Fairfire raised an eyebrow. "How long is a while?"

"Five years." Nathan admitted, somewhat reluctantly.

Fairfire whistled with sympathy. "Ouch, flamboyant departure, huh?"

"Yeah, you could say that." Nathan answered. "I don't really like talking about it, it's not really... relevant, and I like to think I've done fairly well for myself without them. I still hear from my cousins from time to time, well... I did."

"Hmmm... yeah, I'd say you've made a good career out of things." Fairfire said, clearly putting a bit of thought into it. "Except for the whole "getting stranded in another reality that wants nothing more than to kill you" bit, but I suppose that can't be helped."

"Eh, you all did it first, figured I'd follow the trend." Nathan jokingly said. "Besides, if you look past all the dangerously racist locals, terrifying physics, and the black demon monster things that keep trying to eat us, this place ain't all that bad."

Fairfire chuckled half-heartedly. "Yeah... I guess so."

There was a moment of awkward silence, before Fairfire cautiously spoke again. "Have you heard anything about Yu?"

Nathan shook his heads, it seemed that his attempts to shake her mindset had failed. "She woke up for a little bit, but apparently she wasn't really... lucid."

"That's good." Fairfire said with a slight nod of affirmation. Her voice cracked somewhat, and she blinked ferociously, as if fighting off tears.

"Liz..." Nathan softly said. "It wasn't-"

He cut himself off. What was he supposed to say? That it wasn't her fault? That she shouldn't beat herself up over it? He would be lying to her and she'd know it. They didn't know if it was her fault or not. There had been talk about a strange Semblance at play but they didn't have any confirmation yet.

She gritted her teeth. "I... I think I'd just like to think about it a little bit more, if that's alright with you."

Nathan didn't protest, well aware that he had no right to. He returned his attention to his datapad, and began brewing up his next plan to shake her out of her stupor.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 12th, 0645 local time, 2552**

The nerves were beginning to set in amongst the Bridge Crew as the order to prepare for combat across the ship. Quiet banter and discussion had ceased, replaced with wordless typing and the occasional relay between stations. Through the front viewport, Richard could see condensation building on the outer hull as the Dominion floated gently through the cloud layer. Beside him, Winter and Bradford stood, keeping close tabs on the situation down in Atlas.

It seemed Lieutenant Oswald had an odd sort of humor, certainly an ironic one. He'd presented the final battle-plan to Ironwood along with Winter under the working title "Operation Market Garden", apparently both of the Atlesians liked it, and they decided to keep the somewhat ironic moniker, unaware of its historical context. Privately, Richard hoped that this time around, the attackers didn't get bogged down in the occupying forces.

_I'll worry about explaining that little historical event after we've won... hopefully._ Richard thought.

Far below them, and some distance away, the Atlesian Airfleet had leapt into action. The Allied Army had already begun certain critical strikes, They'd started before the media had been informed of what was happening. As soon as The Council handed down declassified information proving the SDC's guilt, the media unleashed hell and vengeance on both the Company and its CEO.

Richard caught a sample of the nationwide shitshow that was rapidly unfolding, and couldn't help but feel a bit of satisfaction at how suddenly and violently the scales turned. The same journalists that had been ranting and raving about the UNSC only a day earlier now aimed their sights at the SDC. It seemed that Ironwood had revealed more than Richard had expected, as the media shared some pretty grizzly details, albeit with a sensory warning.

The general consensus was not one of outrage at the racial violence, but at the betrayal to Atlas. It seemed that the discriminatory nature of Atlas's population would need some time to be properly amended, but there was plenty of sympathy for those poor people who had met their untimely demise in the mines. One aspiring politician, a woman named Robyn Hill, was featured on multiple broadcasts simultaneously, taking her shot directly at Jacques Schnee with a truly inspired bombardment of criticism.

_I wonder just how far censorship of the media has gone in Remnant's past... I bet that the Grimm had a pretty disproportionate effect on that._ Richard thought, knowing only a tangential amount of information about Remnant's experience with Authoritarianism. _Of course, censorship caused by fear is probably going to cause a lot of negative emotions anyway, so it's more than a little self-defeating._

Richard had yet to see how the UNSC would be seen, but that particular concern was very unimportant compared to the now-ongoing military operation. Through the front Viewport, Richard saw a pair of small silhouettes leave the Dominion's Starboard Hangar.

"Both Excalibur units just launched, Spellmaster Lead is reporting minor turbulence on their flight path." Ensign Gillespie announced, referring to the Dominion's complement of Sparrowhawks and Vultures respectively. "Voodoo is next in the tubes, they should be in the sky in less than a minute."

"Give them the order to launch when ready and clear their objectives as soon as they can, keep me informed." Richard relayed, taking a deep breath as he prepared to issue a multitude of critical orders. "Lieutenant Gage, Issue Gunnery Captains the standby signal. Charge Point Defense to full and unlock the safeties on our Trebuchet Missiles. When the time comes to fire I want it to be quick."

"Aye Sir." Gage replied, rapidly carrying out his orders. "I'll need a few minutes to double check the firing solution on those missiles... damn Grimm probably moved... again."

"Commander, Atlesian Air Patrols are requesting that we reroute Chakra Squadron's flightpath, apparently we're going to overlap with one of their Cruisers." Lieutenant Chen suddenly interjected. She'd officially taken on the role of the Dominion's Operations Officer, since they had little need for astronavigation, which helped Ensign Gillespie loosen up his workload.

_Goddamnit, I know every plan has flaws, but that one seems particularly avoidable._ Richard grumpily thought. "Tell them that Chakra will increase altitude to stay out of their way. Inform Spark that his squadron needs to climb another two kilometers, then proceed as planned."

"Aye Sir!" She answered, before complying with his orders.

Winter seemed somewhat surprised. "Those are the Hornets, correct? Can they handle such a steep incline?"

"The Hornets are VTOLs, they can handle it." Bradford stubbornly answered. Richard considered adding his own response, but decided that Bradford had already said what he was thinking, and that it would be pointless.

"Commander, priority transmission from General Ironwood." Ensign Gillespie shouted.

_Something's gone wrong._ Richard immediately recognized. Winter was supposed to relay any messages from him, if he needed to call directly, that meant it was critical. "Patch him through."

Ironwood's face quickly filled one of the smaller monitors in front of him, and the man began speaking immediately. "Commander, I have a developing situation and I need a quick response!"

"What's the situation?" Richard asked.

"One of our recon elements found a herd of Megoliaths dangerously close to several of my support units. I can't say how they snuck past our lines, but I need something of yours to intercept them!" Ironwood explained, his voice reserved, but the urgency still clear in his voice. "I recognize that you'll be placing other units at risk, but this has the potential to spiral out of control if not handled properly!"

_He's choosing the smaller loss, but maybe he doesn't need to..._ Richard thought. "We'll take care of it. Transfer all relevant data to the Dominion, and give us some time to see it through."

Ironwood let out a faint sigh of relief. "Thank you, Commander." The channel closed immediately afterwards, and immediately Richard began to ponder exactly how to respond to the unexpected setback.

"Megoliaths... you'll need something with a lot of firepower to take those down." Winter said, helpfully filling in for his still-lackluster knowledge on Grimm unit designations.

"A volley of Archer Missiles would be more than enough to put those things down, should the need arise." Bradford suggested.

_Archer Missiles would certainly do the job, I can only think of a handful of Grimm that would even pose a chance at surviving one of those._ Richard thought. _But like Bradford said, we need to save what we can._

Winter looked at him with an expression of surprise and mild annoyance. "I would strongly encourage you to take whatever measures you can to destroy those Grimm, if they get behind our frontlines, we would risk disastrous losses."

"So would I." Bradford said, showing a rare instance of agreement with the foreign operative. "But the decision ultimately falls to the Commander."

"Sir, Incoming download from the Atlesian Airfleet, it's the info you requested!" Gillespie interjected.

"Route it over to my terminal." Richard ordered.

He quickly skimmed over the report for the relevant information, finding it quickly. It seemed that the Atlesian Troops had stumbled upon a pack of well over thirty of the massive monsters. It was easy to see why Ironwood was worried, that kind of force could probably take down an entire team of Specialists with little effort, let alone logistics or support units.

_Let's not pull punches, the Sabres will do the job._ Richard thought. _Shielded fighters with armor-piercing missiles and coilguns should be able to get past their thick hides._

"Lieutenant Gillespie, reroute Voodoo Squadron from escort duty to kill those targets." Richard ordered.

Gillespie carried out his orders without question, relaying the instruction to the CAG. Both Winter and Bradford seemed surprised by his decision, but it was Bradford who actually spoke up. "Sir, without The Sabres, we'll be going in with no fighter cover."

"I'm well aware Lieutenant." Richard replied. "But our point-defense guns have proven their capability against the Grimm before, we should be able to defend ourselves. If we run into any serious opposition, we'll start throwing out Missiles."

_Not to mention the fact that we can make more coilgun slugs by the dozen, but not long-range capital-grade guided-missiles._ Richard thought. The more he thought about it, the more he realized just how blunt and unsophisticated the Dominion could afford to be. He was reminded of the early days of space-warfare, with massive overly-complex dreadnoughts pounding away at each other with dozens of coilgun batteries, each trying to score that single, decisive blow.

_Except in this case, the other bastards don't shoot back._ He thought.

Bradford nodded, reassured by Richard's plan. Winter seemed more uncertain, but that was to be expected, she had less reason to be as confident in either the Dominion's armor or missile weapons. But Richard had seen how both stacked up to the Grimm in the past, and his confidence was assured. But confidence made for cockiness, and cockiness made dead soldiers.

"Slowing our descent now Sir, should be in our holding position in about thirty seconds." Ensign Williams shouted from the Helm.

"Gage, how are we doing with those missiles?" Richard asked, the time for launch had nearly come.

"Still working on it Sir, apparently some of the targets we were supposed to be shooting at are outright gone." Gage answered.

"What do you mean?" Richard asked. Had the Grimm simply moved, or had they already been killed by Atlesian Forces?

"Here Sir, I'll send you the reports." Chen offered, letting Gage focus on his work. Calculating a firing solution for a hundred-year-old long-range missile in the middle of a snowstorm fired out of a barely compatible launch tube made for some difficult math.

Richard examined some of the satellite images that Chen sent him, and was very surprised by what he saw. Indeed, it seemed that most of the Grimm forces had outright vanished, which was extremely bizarre, considering they apparently had a naturally-static behavior.

_I thought they all sat outside the Kingdoms and waited for a good opportunity to strike, where did they all go?_ Richard thought. It was almost like they'd known the Dominion was coming, but that was impossible, as the Grimm only had the intelligence of wild animals, and the plans for the operation were kept under strict lock-and-key.

"Gage, cancel fire missions one through four, as well as six and eight." Richard ordered, seeing no point in firing precious missiles at nothing.

"Aye Sir!" Gage replied.

Richard scratched his head. "Where the hell did they go?"

"Perhaps they were killed by Huntsmen?" Winter suggested.

Bradford shook his head. "No way, look at Fire Mission Four. That was at least a hundred armored targets, big ones too. Even the best of your Huntsmen would need some serious backup to take that kind of force on."

"So they moved." Richard murmured to himself. "That's odd..."

"They do migrate, on occasion. Although it's odd that they would move away from the negative emotions..." Winter proposed doubtfully.

Bradford crossed his arms. "Whatever the case, we still have our lot of Grimm to kill here."

"Indeed, let's get back to it. Specialist, relay our discovery to the General." Richard said. "Gage, what's the status on our missiles?"

"Firing solution ready, the first three Trebuchets are hot and ready to launch!" The weapons officer reported.

"Fire." Richard instructed.

Typically, the larger silos on the Charon Class were meant for launching large nuclear missiles. In this case, the Dominion's three large silos revealed what appeared to be surprisingly small missiles, which quickly rocketed out of their respective tubes and adjusted themselves to strike their targets.

"Missiles away, telemetry looks good." Gage reported. "Weapons Crew is reloading the last missile into Silo One, they'll need a few seconds."

"Fire when ready. Williams, keep us in a holding pattern for the time being." Richard replied. "What's the time until impact?"

"Trebuchets One and Two will impact within a minute, Trebuchet Three will need more time." Gage answered. "Satellites don't have a visual on the targets, but Atlesian Recon should be able to get us a report when they impact."

"Impressive weapons." Winter said, with a hint of respect. "To deliver so much firepower at that long of a range."

"These things are designed for this exact purpose. Of course, this specific model is pretty old, but we'll take what we can get." Bradford said, shedding some light on the weapons. "Now if only we knew how those Covie mortars worked..."

"One problem at a time Bradford." Richard replied. "Order Point-Defense to stay spun up, and get our Drones in the air, I want to be ready for anything."

After another few moments, another missile launched from Silo One. Richard noted how the impact that the launch had on the ship was considerably lesser than a nuclear missile, and chalked it up to less fuel being needed to deliver the warhead.

_That's all a missile is, a delivery system for a very special package._ Richard thought, watching the display tracking the four missiles and rapidly counting down their time until they impacted. Finally, the first missile hit it's mark, and it's indicator shifted to a red background.

"Splash one, waiting for a report on effectiveness." Gage said.

"Commander, several of our birds report their targets are gone too... shall I send them to back up Voodoo?" Bradford asked, with a hint of suspicion in his voice.

_Alright, something's up._ Richard thought, silently agreeing with Bradford. "Order them to perform a second sweep, use Recon Packages if available. If they end up finding nothing, place them under General Ironwood's jurisdiction, he might need the help, and Voodoo's more than capable of killing some Woolly Mammoths themselves."

"Aye Sir." Bradford replied with a notable hint of doubt. Winter seemed surprised at his orders, but Richard ignored her reaction, and continued focusing on the Operation.

_Next, we kill the other hard targets with the point-defense._ Richard thought. _Time for a good old-fashioned turkey shoot._

**Meanwhile**

**Outskirts of Mantle, Forward Observation Post**

The crack of a rifle firing echoed through the air, a bolt cycled and a spent casing fell to the floor, before the rifle fired again. Garrett repeated the process two more times, before finally making a fine hole in the skull of an unusually stubborn Manticore. He quickly blew the head off of it's Centinel friend, before snapping the spine of the final Grimm, a Sabyr, with the final shot in his magazine. The squad of Troopers he had been covering finished the downed Grimm off.

"Thanks Major, it's good to see that you've still got that magic touch." The NCO in charge of the soldiers said over the radio. Garrett fought the urge to reply harshly, stating that he wasn't an officer anymore, but stopped himself.

_You are an Officer you old coot... kind of._ Garrett thought, before issuing a far more polite response to the Troopers. Ironwood had offered him a commission, which had already been pre-approved unanimously by the Council. It was clearly an attempt to manipulate him into thinking that his Country still had faith in him, and rather annoyingly Garrett had accepted, for reasons that were still beyond him.

As a result, he found himself sitting in the ruins of a three-story building that was just far enough away from the defenses of Mantle that it hadn't survived the Winter, at least, it's inhabitants hadn't. Thankfully, they weren't here to complain about Garrett commandeering it for use as his personal Observation Post. The roof might've been torn off, but until the Grimm started pouring through it, Garrett had other concerns. He topped off his magazine, before placing it back into his weapon and drawing his Laser Designator.

Originally Garrett had decided to bring it because they had a built in rangefinder, an invaluable trait for a man who fought like he did. But he found himself calling in more and more requests for Air support than he expected. Whatever the Brass had just told the Press, it must've had the city in a stir. The Grimm were acting wildly and ferociously, even more than usual.

_I bet they said something about what the SDC is really doing, that'll do it._ Garrett thought. For all of his misgivings with the UNSC, he hated the SDC more, and having two potential enemies beat the shit out of each other was a good strategy. _Huh, maybe I oughta give General Ironwood a bit more credit, that's actually pretty smart..._

He swept his rangefinders along the hillside in the distance, before his vision came to rest on another target, which was peeking over the ridge, seemingly looking at him and his men. This Grimm was an ugly bastard, something he hadn't seen before. It looked like what would happen if you covered a giant gecko in the same armor that had some of the same scaling as a Centinel.

It scanned it's tiny eyes across his frontline, before it's head unexpectedly folded open in a rather disgusting manner, revealing a singular, large eye. At least, Garrett assumed it was an eye, it kind of looked like a big shiny gemstone had been shoved inside its head. His suspicion was proven correct when it swiveled to look directly at him, sending a brief shiver down his spine as he felt himself under the creature's gaze. But instinct and training snapped him out of his fear quickly, he was done being afraid. He swapped his Laser Designator for his rifle and took aim.

"You stalked the wrong guy today buddy..." Garrett murmured, before pushing his Semblance as far as it could go and firing.

The round flew true, and hit the Grimm directly in its eye. Apparently they were susceptible to that, as the Grimm rapidly disintegrated as soon as it was done thrashing and screaming. Garrett made a mental note to report that, if the Grimm had new abilities, they apparently also had a new weakness.

_To be fair, I think most things have a weakness to bullets._ Garrett slyly thought, before a panicked cry over the radio snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Nevermores!" One of his soldiers shouted, before a giant shadow quickly passed over Garrett's position... followed by another.

"Agh, you rat bastards, I'd just gotten comfortable!" Garrett protested to nobody in particular, climbing up from his prone position and taking better cover from the sky.

Through the mostly-open roof, Garrett saw three of the ice-coated birds fly through the air, and immediately his gut sank. A normal swarm of nevermores he and his men could handle, but these were clearly not normal Nevermores. Their armor was well-layered, and their feathers were dense and long, two signs that they were Elder Nevermores, the older and far scarier versions of the normal Grimm.

Garrett lowered his rifle and reached for his radio, nothing short of a missile launcher would even scratch those things. "General, this is Major Garrett, come in!"

"I read you Garrett." General Ironwood calmly responded. Technically he probably should've contacted the Regimental Commander first, but they probably wouldn't have access to the firepower or Specialists to take down a swarm of Elder Nevermores.

"I've got a swarm of Nevermores breathing down my neck, and nothing to kill them with!" Garrett said, hearing one of his men scream in the distance. "Whatever you have, I need it now!"

"You're in luck Major, I've got a flight of some very special support craft available for tasking." Ironwood answered, much to Garrett's relief. "You're still holed up in Grid Five-Zero-Zero Four-Five-Eight, right?"

"Negative, current Gridref is as follows. Five-Zero-One Four-Five-Four, how copy?" Garrett replied. The floor he was standing on became momentarily darker as something large flew over his building, despite his instincts telling him to run and hide, Garrett focused solely on radioing for help.

"I copy Major, hang tight, help is on the way." Ironwood said. "And Garrett, check your fire. Do not fire upon any friendly forces."

Although he didn't understand the sudden patronization, Garrett voiced his compliance and stowed his radio. He quickly returned his rifle to his hands, before the floor, walls, and what was left of the ceiling shook ferociously as something gigantic landed on his building. Debris and accumulated dust fell from the sudden force, and Garrett was marked to one knee.

Immediately realizing what had happened, he quickly returned to lying prone, and did his best to suppress his fear. If one of the Elder Nevermores sensed his fear, he was going to die, there was no question about it. The building shook again as he gripped his rifle's grip with whitened knuckles, knowing that an infantry weapon would be meaningless against such a massive target, even with his Semblance in play.

Without warning, four massive talons tore a sizable chunk out of the third floor across from him, before pulling half the building off of it's foundation and exposing Garrett to the Elder Nevermore now staring him down. The sound of the collapsing building and massive flapping wings was deafening, so much so that he couldn't even hear the ferocious gunfire all around him. Knowing that the end was near, Garrett took aim with one last shot, and fired it into the Elder Nevermore's head. He might've screamed, and as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter if he did.

For a split second, it almost seemed... stunned, but his comparatively paltry attack. A split second later, the hovering Nevermore was obliterated from existence by a barrage of gunfire so ferocious and so powerful, that it was well on it's way to disintegrating even before it was dead.

_What?_ Garrett thought, before a squadron of six of the strangest aircraft he had ever seen flew past the remnants of his building. They had two sets of wings, one at the top holding some kind of engine, and another set underneath holding what looked like some kind of missile. Garrett watched as they turned around at a speed that should've been impossible, before proceeding to use heavy rotary-cannons and missiles to rip the entire swarm of Elder Nevermores to ribbons.

He was utterly stunned even as his soldiers let out a hearty cheer and joined into the fighting. Garrett watched as the remaining Grimm tried to flee, and were ruthlessly pursued by the bizarre aircraft. A small part of Garrett's mind guessed that it was the aliens who were flying the strike-craft, but his mind was still recovering from being stunned to notice. It was only once they and the Grimm were both flying away that Garrett noticed his radio beeping at him incessantly. "Yes, yes, hello?!"

"Good to hear from you Major, what's the status of those Nevermores?" General Ironwood asked.

Garrett took a quick glance at the final Nevermore being bisected by what were almost certainly alien attack fighters, and gave a sigh of relief. "Dead or well on their way to being dead, Sir."

"Excellent, rally your men and clean up any Grimm who survived. It seems like most of the main assault is over, but be ready for any stragglers, out." Ironwood ordered, before ending the transmission.

Still somewhat stunned by the display, Garrett stowed his radio and looked at the other half of the building he was standing in. It had been utterly thrashed, and there was no sign of the Elder Nevermore that had been only moments away from lunging at him and ending his life. He took one last look at the Aliens flying away in the distance, their cannons still ferociously roaring as they tore Grimm apart wherever they were going.

_Alright, maybe they ain't all bad._ Garrett begrudgingly thought. _Now, let's see how many of the recruits wet themselves._

**Beacon Academy, Cliffside Firing Range**

**October 12th, 0822 local time, 2552**

"Ok, preparing to test the Mark Fourteen." Ben said, a hint of exhaustion in his voice.

He, Curie and Ruby had spent all of yesterday testing, with a little bit of help from Beacon's various professors from time to time. Ruby proved to be surprisingly invaluable, her knowledge of Remnant's unusual elements assisting greatly in getting the Dust component of their new propellant working.

Unfortunately, He and Curie had been up all night trying to solve their issues, with little to show in the way of successes. The biggest problem they had was that the Dust actually tended to burn away faster than the powder did, which led to very inconsistent pressure output. This latest mixture was proving to have equally unpredictable consequences, but for different reasons.

He wiped the morning dew off of his prototype round and inserted it into an empty magazine, which he loaded into his M6G. Personally, Ben preferred the M6I select-fire variant of the magnum, but it was in very short supply, and replacement pistols were determined to be a low-priority for the foundry operators. Still, the M6G was a very capable sidearm, and a useful example for testing his rounds. It seemed that the students adhered to a strict schedule, so he was free to use the range while Curie monitored everything that happened via high-speed camera.

"Please give one of the intermediate targets a shot, I believe this mixture might perform suitably for such a shot." Curie requested. She did a good job of hiding it, but Ben could tell she was also tiring due to the lack of progress.

"Affirmative, going hot." Ben confirmed, disabling the safety on his weapon. He took aim at a target around fifty meters out, activated the two-times zoom module on the weapon, and fired. Rather perplexingly, the round failed to fire, something that hadn't happened before.

"Stay on target, I believe that is a hangfire." Curie stated, noticing Ben's predicament.

Sure enough, the round fired less than a second after she was done speaking. The magnum delivered the shot on target, but it was at noticeably sub-par velocity. It was odd seeing a magnum fail to function properly, as they were considered a reliable and dependable firearm by practically every man or woman who had ever held one.

_Maybe if we stopped playing around with this alien crap and just gave people smokeless powder it would end up working better._ Ben grumpily thought, but stifled that line of thinking. _Still, the tactical opportunities Dust offers are... extensive, to say the least. Maybe it's not worth discounting quite yet._

"What do you think happened that time?" Ben asked, cocking his helmet to look at his A.I companion.

Curie pondered it for a moment. "I believe we simply didn't mix the compounds properly. Perhaps we should modify one of Beacon's Centrifuges for use as a mixer?"

"Or just put the propellant in first and the Dust second." Ben countered. "Using the Dust as a propellant along with the powder doesn't seem to be working."

"Well-" Curie began, but was cut off by the arrival of their unusually-chipper local assistant.

"Hey Curie, what's up with you guys?" Ruby asked. "Still testing those new bullets?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking." Ben answered as he holstered his sidearm. "We're having problems with the Dust, it's very... unpredictable."

"If I didn't know any better, I would compare it to a more unstable form of Black Powder. It explodes violently, and it leads to unpredictable pressure loads." Curie added, before noticing Ruby's curious expression. "For context, Black Powder was the first type of ballistic propellant employed by humanity on Earth."

Ruby seemed perplexed. "Well, maybe the Dust just isn't working well with the stuff you're using. The... Smokeless Powder, right?"

"That appears to be the case." Curie reluctantly answered. "But we need to find a way to force it to work."

"Well... why not just change materials?" Ruby asked, as if the solution was obvious. "Yesterday you were talking about all the different kinds of Gunpowder you had, why not use one of those?"

"Cost." Ben bluntly answered. "We expressly chose an early form of Smokeless Powder because it will be easy to produce on Remnant. Our goal is to get better bullets into the hands of your people, we can't do that if they're too expensive to make."

Ruby carefully considered his words, before making her conclusion. "Hang on just a moment, I think I know someone who can help."

She dashed off in a burst of rose petals, once again inspiring a small headache as Ben tried to comprehend how exactly she did that. Eventually, he dismissed it as the same magic that most of Remnant seemed to run off of. He returned his attention to Curie and the handful of prototype rounds he still had to test.

"Don't worry Ben, her abilities confuse me too." Curie offered. "I tried tracking her with the thermals on your helmet yesterday, and believe it or not, her heat signature outruns the rose petals."

"Impressive, I'd love to see her and Kelly go head to head." Ben said, referring to the legendarily fast Spartan II he had learned about in class. _The fastest Spartan versus a blisteringly fast Huntress in training, I genuinely don't know who would win, but my money's on the Spartan._

"I... also find myself deeply curious as to who would win that." Curie said, with a hint of deeper thought. "It seems however, that her reaction time is still around the normal human average."

Ben nodded to show that he was listening, but forced himself to focus on the task at hand, they had work to do. "Which round are we testing next?"

Curie pondered it for a moment. "Try the round labeled as Eleven, that should be our Ice Dust round. Try a closer target, I am less confident in the accuracy of this prototype."

Ben complied, loading the designated round into his weapon and taking aim once again. "Going hot."

He tried for the target at twenty-five meters, and scored a hit on the third ring from the bullseye. A handful of ice shards splintered away from the impact site, leaving nothing in the way of the immobilizing iceberg they had been aiming for. Compared to the amount of Ice Dust the round had been loaded with, the resulting amount of ice was very lackluster.

"Well, that's certainly disappointing." Curie said, seemingly more surprised than frustrated. "I wonder why that happened?"

"I don't know, maybe-" Ben said, before being cut off by someone else.

"I might have an answer." Another voice interjected. Ben turned and saw that Ruby had returned with Headmaster Ozpin.

_I suppose he might have some idea of what we're doing wrong here._ Ben thought.

"Depending on the temperature of your materials, you may have nullified the effects of the Ice Dust." Ozpin offered. "Ice Dust is resistant to external forces, but not immune. A hot enough blast will inevitably reduce its effectiveness."

Curie seemed to digest the information. It certainly made sense that the material based around freezing things in place would be vulnerable to thawing. "Hmm, that could very well be causing the issue. Thank you, Headmaster, I'm afraid that we've been having extreme difficulty getting the Dust to behave."

"Dust isn't like most elements." Ozpin said, in a statement that came across as rather a substantial understatement. But he, as well as Ruby, kept their mouths closed and listened to what the man had to say. "Dust is an element that is more malleable, more manipulatable than any other element, which is what makes it so useful. But it is also fickle, and requires a great deal of care in it's application."

"I'm afraid that's our problem." Curie said, now showing a bit of frustration. "It seems that we cannot blend it with the powder, or else we encounter a number of incredibly difficult problems."

Ozpin seemed to digest that bit of information for a moment. "Well, why don't we ask Miss Rose? What do you think would be the best solution to this problem?"

Ben turned to face her, and it seemed that she was caught somewhat off-guard with being handed the spotlight. While there was a fair amount of doubt in Ben's mind as to whether or not she would actually propose a viable answer, he elected to reserve his judgement. She had proven her prowess with weaponry yesterday, so maybe she could actually come up with a solution.

"Well... did you try just using the propellant with a solid Dust bullet?" Ruby proposed.

Ben, Curie, and even Ozpin all raised an eyebrow. Ruby gave an awkward chuckle as everyone kept looking at her in surprise. "What uh... did I say something wrong?"

"Miss Rose, I believe you may have just solved our problem." Curie said. "Although, I question if solid Dust could detonate reliably, and it would certainly not offer the same armor-piercing capabilities we were anticipating."

Finally, Ben had a meaningful idea to contribute. "Well, maybe not every round needs to be made from Dust. We could have Dust rounds for the elemental effects, and normal rounds made from other materials to offer meaningful penetration and fragmentation capabilities."

"Hmm, while posing some logistical challenges, it could work." Curie said.

"Yeah, that way you would get the best of both options!" Ruby enthusiastically added.

"Well, good answer, Miss Rose." Ozpin said. "Sergeant, if you and Curie would like, I can give Miss Rose an excuse from her classes for the day to help you put those ideas into action."

"Oh!" Ruby enthusiastically said and she hopped into the air repeatedly, obviously on-board with the idea. "I can help, please please please-"

_How does someone with so much knowledge and technical prowess lack basic discipline?_ Ben thought, looking past Ruby's words of excitement and turning to Curie's hologram on the table, who it seemed was ironically looking to Ben for his input.

"What? Don't look at me, It's your project, I'm just here to help you." Ben pointed out, placing the decision on Curie's shoulders, she would be more qualified to make it.

"Well in that case, we would be happy to have you, Miss Rose." Curie said after a moment of deliberation. Curiously, it seemed like she was changing her expressions extremely rapidly, between a teasing look at Ben and a frustrated expression. But she quickly settled on one of cautious acceptance as she offered her answer.

"Yay!" Ruby said.

"Alright Miss Rose, we'll consider this an extra-credit assignment." Ozpin said, snapping her out of her excitement and instilling a bit of calm into her attitude. "And remember, don't be afraid to rely on your team for help. I believe that at least one member of your team has ample experience with Dust."

Ruby gained an expression like Ozpin had just pointed out the obvious, but Ben's attention was firmly focused on what Ozpin had said.

"_Don't be afraid to rely on your team for help..."_ Ben recited in his mind, immediately thinking back to his own training. He looked at Ruby again, and something clicked within his mind.

All of the sudden, Ben realized exactly what it was about Beacon that rubbed him the wrong way. The Huntsmen were like Remnant's own bizarre version of Spartans, and Beacon was like their version of Camp Currahee. They both served as humanities defenders, dedicating their lives to learning how to fight, but that was where the similarities ended, and where Ben's unease began.

In the one day Ben had to explore it, Beacon was very clearly a far more forgiving environment than Currahee was. Discipline was practically nonexistent, Drill Instructors were replaced with professors, and like Curie had said, the whole environment wasn't dissimilar to a community college. With their bizarre methods and lackluster technology, Ben began to wonder just how effective the Huntsmen truly were.

_Are they just held up by their supernatural abilities?_ Ben thought. _None of these kids went through basic, none of them went through augmentations, they don't even have a formal chain of command._

"Sergeant, are you alright?" Ozpin asked, snapping Ben back into the present.

He forced his mind to clear itself of his thoughts. "Yes Headmaster, I'm alright. I was just... thinking about something, back home."

_Not quite the truth, not a lie._ Ben thought, confident in his false answer.

"I understand. And for what it's worth, I hope you do end up finding a way home... I would love to see what the rest of humanity has accomplished." Ozpin said, his demeanor seemingly genuine. "Now, I'm afraid I have my own duties to attend to, but I'm certain that Miss Rose will be able to answer any of your concerns."

"I'll do my best, Professor!" Ruby said enthusiastically, before the Headmaster made his exit. "So uh... what do we do now?"

"Simple, we go back to the drawing board, and we reinvent the cartridge." Curie said. "On that note, do you have any Remnant made bullets we could compare to our own."

"I've got more than bullets!" Ruby enthusiastically said, before proceeding to do what was easily the most ridiculous thing Ben had seen all day.

In one fluid, clearly well practiced motion, Ruby deployed a weapon that had to be seen to be believed. It was an expertly forged red and black Scythe, clearly constructed to serve multiple functions. The tip of the scythe's blade impacted the ground with such force that it dug into the dirt Ruby withdrew a small red box from the mid-point of the weapon's long shaft, before cycling what Ben now recognized as the bolt of a rifle, and holding up the high-caliber round that popped up.

"This is my weapon, Crescent Rose!" Ruby eagerly said. "She's a customisable high-caliber Sniper Scythe."

Ben was so utterly stunned by the display it took him a few seconds to respond, and even then, it wasn't exactly an intellectual statement. "Holy shit..."

Curie gave an excited but awkward laugh. "Miss Rose, I have never been more excited to discuss weaponry with someone!"


	40. Chapter 40

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 12th, 0923 local time, 2552**

The sound of a coilgun slug obliterating the sound barrier was always welcome in Richard's mind. Even as the battle was beginning to calm down, the occasional thunderclap of the point-defense guns sounded throughout the ship. They'd done their jobs magnificently, whatever targets they were tasked to obliterate never stood a chance against the starship-grade weaponry.

"Excalibur's lasers just ran dry, they're on their way back to the barn now for recharge and rearmament." Bradford reported. "Voodoo is approaching the end of their ammo now, but by the looks of things, they probably won't have to use their full payload."

_Our Squadrons tore them apart, even more so than I was expecting. We'll have to prioritize getting them re-armed as soon as we can._ Richard thought, very satisfied with their performance. A quick look at the monitor tracking the objectives of the auxiliary craft confirmed that all of them were completed. "Keep me informed, and ensure the Gun Captains know that they're coming back, we don't want any friendly fire."

"Aye Sir." Bradford confirmed, before going to relay the order.

The sound of another coilgun salvo cracked through the ship, punctuated by Lieutenant Gage making his report. "All nearby Grimm contacts down, reloading and cooling guns while we've got the chance."

"Do it and check in with the Atlesians, they might need more fire-support." Richard instructed.

"That shouldn't be necessary, Commander." Winter interjected. "Apparently the Specialists are wrapping up the last of the Grimm on the ground now."

Richard turned to her with an expression of surprise and a fair bit of doubt. "What about the enemy reinforcements? We should be ready when the next wave begins their attack."

"There is no next wave, Sir." Bradford interjected, much to Richard's surprise.

That was very far from what he expected to hear. "What do you mean? I thought that the Grimm wouldn't stop coming until the negativity subsided."

Just to be sure, he took another glance at Lieutenant Chen's station, where she was monitoring all of the press coverage and public response to recent revelations. Numerous furious debates, emerging protests, and even live coverage of a fire dotted her terminals, so it was very apparent that the people of Atlas were still taking in the news, albeit quite poorly, and that the negativity was still rampant.

_I certainly hope all that anger is directed at the SDC, and not us._ Richard thought, although he wasn't so optimistic. _But we'll have plenty of time to make friends when this is all over..._

"The Grimm do vary in their behavior, somewhat." Winter said, offering some mild explanation as to what might have happened. "But if the Grimm have truly stopped coming, well… it is possible that they have no way to make it to the source of the negativity, natural barriers, perhaps? Or maybe they are simply spread too thin to notice such a sharp rise so suddenly?" She didn't sound certain, a stark contrast to what he had come to expect from Winter when she spoke of things related to Remnant. It was sheer speculation and that fact seemed to worry the Specialist even more than him.

Richard paused, and ran the situation over in his head. Just because they didn't see the enemy coming didn't mean the Grimm had all simply vanished, it was more likely that some external factor was playing into their behavior, maybe some biological defense mechanism that they had overlooked? If they were able to see all of their allies get obliterated, perhaps they would be less willing to attack, they did apparently possess some limited degree of intelligence.

Or maybe Winter was right and the Grimm were unable to make the journey due to terrain… maybe there was a massive horde building up preparing to storm them after they made it through whatever was slowing them down.

_Although I'd rather not think about that. _Richard thought. "Are there any rural towns or villages that might have attracted the Grimm to them, rather than Atlas?"

"It's certainly possible, but I haven't heard anything about that over the radio. Though… if those villages have gone radio silent, that is deeply worrying." Winter answered, a fair degree of concern in her voice. "Give me just a moment, I'll double-check what's going on with the General."

As she took a step back to speak to the General, Bradford brought up a live readout of the ship's Radar systems on the holotable. "Here Commander, maybe you'll be able to spot something we didn't."

Richard stood up for a better look. Only around twenty kilometers away, and quite a fair degree lower than the Dominion, was the massive radar signature where Atlas stood. Around it in a defensive screen, smaller contacts marked Atlas's Airfleet. Smaller, notably faster contacts marked the Dominion's Squadrons, which were dotted across the map alongside their Atlesian counterparts. Although there were confirmed hostile contacts further out, the immediate area around Atlas was clear as could be.

"That's... wrong, we couldn't have beaten them back already." Richard said, deep in thought on where all the Grimm could have gone. Although the UNSC and Atlesian Military had been doing well, they had only been fighting for a handful of hours, the Grimm should have still littered the ground.

"I don't know Sir, I think that's exactly what we did." Bradford said, a hint of optimism in his voice. "We neutralized all of our targets, and the Atlesians are mopping up any stragglers now. Maybe we just overestimated them? Scary as they can be, they are just wild animals."

A more cynical part of Richard's mind told him that they hadn't won yet. He half expected a massive wave of Grimm to show up on Radar and outnumber the Airfleet ten to one, yet none came. Instead, Winter returned to the holotable, with a notably more chipper expression.

"The General has just given the order to stand down, I believe that we have won." Winter said. Although she was outwardly more optimistic, Richard could've sworn he caught a hint of doubt in her voice.

_Experience breeds caution._ Richard thought. He knew that skeptical look anywhere, although it most commonly adorned the faces of UNSC Admirals after any kind of success.

Bradford gave a nod. "Well, if the General says the Grimm are done coming, I'll take his word for it. He's fought the Grimm a lot longer than we have..."

"I'm not so certain, there should be more." Richard muttered doubtfully.

It seemed, however, that most of the Bridge crew had already begun quietly celebrating, with excited murmurs and restrained cheering sounding throughout the bridge. A quick glance around the Bridge confirmed that they looked the happiest he had seen them since they shot down the hostile Cruisers. Even Bradford was smiling, albeit in a subtle, more professional manner.

_Or maybe... well, it would be nice to have a victory..._ Richard thought, feeling somewhat exhausted by his doubts, as well as the battle. He wasn't afraid to admit to himself that the pressure of his position was starting to get to him, and he was worried it was beginning to affect his mindset.

"Are you alright, Commander?" Bradford asked, seemingly concerned by his silence. Richard forced his mind clear and returned his attention to the situation at hand.

"I'm fine, thank you." Richard answered, before turning to the Operations Station. "Ensign, open a channel to General Ironwood, patch it directly to my earpiece."

"Aye Sir." Gillespie cheerfully reported.

Richard tried not to let the doubt on his face show as he returned to his seat. A moment later, his earpiece gave a crackle, and he could hear the General's voice.

"Congratulations Commander, I think we've beaten them, for now." General Ironwood said.

Although his words were positive in nature, Richard could hear the caution still lingering in his voice. It was surprisingly easy to read him even without seeing his body language, but in this instance, that was a good thing.

_He's not convinced that the Grimm are really gone either._ Richard realized. "I'm not so certain General, I was under the impression that this would be more... difficult."

"So was I." Ironwood admitted, with a hint of reluctance. "But with no Grimm on the immediate horizon, I think it would be best to order our men to stand down. Having all of our defenses raised causes concern in the public, and we don't want them worrying, especially if the Grimm come back."

Annoyingly, Richard saw the logic in his statements. Having the whole Atlesian Army deployed was no doubt causing more panic back home than there already was, so sending them back to the Walls of Mantle would help restore confidence in the people. The cynical side of his brain insisted that letting your defenses down so easily was a terrible decision, and that even with a full airfleet in the sky, and a UNSC frigate overhead, the Grimm could still pose a threat.

But reluctantly, he forced himself to go along with the more optimistic sentiment, it was quite apparent for the happy expressions on everyone's faces around him that he was alone in being doubtful. "I understand, I'll recall my strike craft and step down to condition two. If the Grimm do show up again, we'll be ready."

"That's a wise decision, Commander." Ironwood replied, a subtle hint of either respect or gratitude in his voice. "But for now, maybe we can focus on public relations. We certainly have a lot to explain to Atlas's people."

"Agreed, I'll contact you if we pick up any threats, Dominion out." Richard said, before closing the channel himself. "Lieutenant Bradford, order the ship to stand down to condition two. Keep Radar actively scanning, and get all of our birds back to the barn."

As Bradford gave the order over the intercom and the crew gave a brief round of applause at their victory, Richard considered if maybe he was just jaded to accept their success as hard-earned. He had a cynical side, he was well aware of that, but perhaps he had let it fester for too long. _Maybe I'm just too used to getting my ass kicked by the Covenant..._

Richard shook his head, that kind of thinking was unhelpful and unwelcome. Now was a time for him to make himself useful, there was still much to be done. "Lieutenant Chen, send an offer out to the Atlesian Medical Staff, see if our Doctors can help treat the wounded... and see if the Atlesian Press would like us to make a statement."

"Aye Sir." She happily answered, her earlier anxiety completely gone.

Another hint of doubt ran through his mind, that maybe the Grimm just wanted it to look like they were defeated, but he snuffed it out. If the Grimm did decide to return, they would be struck down by the Dominion and their allies. A full fleet stood between them and Atlas, supported by several Battalions of Atlesian Soldiers, dozens of Specialists, and a company of UNSC Marines, backed by the finest vehicles that humanity had at their disposal.

_Besides, they're wild animals, and wild animals don't have grand strategies._ Richard thought, satisfied with that small bit of logic. _Maybe they finally got the hint that we're not going to go down so easily._

**Salem's Castle**

**October 12th, 1650 local time, 2552**

Hundreds of years of practice meant that Salem was well-versed in the art of controlling Grimm. What had originally been an inconsistent, frustrating waste of time was now something that she relished doing. Privately, she wondered just how much power that Grimm Pool had granted her, as she was still discovering new abilities every once and awhile. While at first, she hated herself for falling into that pool, she found herself regretting it less and less by the day.

Still, even with all of her practice, keeping the Grimm from pouncing on Atlas while it was down was difficult. All of the frustration and fears of the UNSC from Atlas came to head, coupled with the revelation of the SDC's more controversial acts, creating a perfect cesspool of negativity. The Grimm sensed this and wanted nothing more than to contribute to those negative emotions, but Salem held them back. She wanted to give them a false sense of security, and maybe even inspire a bit of arrogance in the process. Thankfully, the Grimm were obedient, and with one final, stern mental command, she firmly established to them that Atlas was off-limits, for the time being.

Her new pack of Lurker Grimm was proving to be especially useful as a distant set of eyes for her to look through, giving her a distant overview of what was happening in Atlas. While the Seer did the same thing, they were very hard to make, and Salem tried to make sure that the Humans didn't know too much about the true capabilities of the jellyfish-like creatures. The Lurker was far more disposable and offered her a look at some of mankind's new methods of warfare that she had previously not yet been able to see.

The UNSC offered mankind some frustratingly powerful weapons and methods. From tiny metal coffins that were launched seemingly from space, each containing a powerful warrior ready for battle, all the way to the mothership from which those tiny vehicles were launched from. It was apparent just how advanced their strange division of mankind had become, making Salem curious as to who exactly they were fighting. Mankind wouldn't just create such devastating weapons for the sake of making them... perhaps there was some merit to rumors of the alien "Covenant" that they claimed to fight.

_A world with no Grimm, no Aura, no Semblances, not even Dust. It does sound interesting, and it no doubt forced them to find new ways of achieving their goals._ Salem thought. _No doubt that's affected their methods of thinking as well, I'll need to adjust my plans._

Thankfully, it seemed that the UNSC shared the Huntsmen and Huntresses' comical disregard for their own safety, along with a useful level of self-sacrificial glorification. That alone gave her something to plan around, that the UNSC would attempt to defend whatever the Grimm attacked. If she could bait them into a disadvantageous battle, she could deplete them for every last precious resource they had.

Lionheart had claimed their ship only carried around a thousand people, and only a fraction of those were soldiers who fought on the ground. If she could cut down their numbers, she could not only instill a bit of fear into them, but weaken them to a point where they posed less of a threat to her plans.

_And once I have the Relics, nothing else matters._ Salem thought, before getting snapped out of her thoughts by a familiar giggle. "What did you need, Tyrian?"

"My Lady, I have come to inform you that the Doctor has something to report in his lab." Tyrian gracefully bowed, lowering himself to the floor as he spoke. Some people would have considered Tyrian's behavior to be unnatural and disturbing, but Salem valued his loyalty and valuable skill set more than she cared for any of his personal quirks.

"It certainly took him long enough." Salem muttered to herself in an unimpressed manner. "Thank you Tyrian, I'll see what he has to say."

"Did you need anything from me, My Lady?" he asked, with a surprising degree of humility.

She thought it over for a moment, perhaps she did. "Ready your weapons and secure yourself some explosives from the armory, I may have a mission for you, should everything go well."

He cackled with excitement. "I shall see to it at once!"

With Tyrian going to equip himself, she found Watts in his laboratory, working with some kind of metal plate.

"Ah, good, my Lady, you're here." He said, as soon as he spotted her. "I'm happy to report I have some advancements that I believe may offer the Grimm a serious advantage, especially against our new enemies."

Salem walked up to join him next to what he was working on. At a glance, it looked a pair of small metal plates haphazardly welded together, but there were other materials sandwiched in-between them, adding various layers of extra thickness.

"What is this, Doctor?" Salem asked, picking up the surprisingly heavy plate of material.

"That is a new design of armor that was originally supposed to be mounted on Atlesian Mechs, originally proposed by a weapons firm in Vacuo." Watts answered. "The "Chobham" armor, as they called it, never left the theoretical stage, but I wasn't so keen to give up on the design."

Salem frowned. "I can't bolt metal plates onto Grimm, Doctor, at least not with any degree of efficiency."

"You don't need to, you only need to understand the principles that make it work." Doctor Watts explained. "I've prepared this example here to demonstrate, but in short, you mix conventional steel plates with layers of softer and harder materials, which either negate the explosive power of bombs or shatter kinetic projectiles."

Salem raised an eyebrow, that did sound very useful. "So, this will give the younger Grimm a chance to survive their earlier battles."

"That's one benefit of this, yes." Watts confirmed. "But more importantly, it will also make the Grimm more difficult to kill once they have their full bone-coating."

Salem placed the plate back onto the table. "Well, that's very good news Doctor, and I believe we'll be able to test this new development of yours sooner rather than later."

Watts nodded. "What is the new plan?"

"Cripple the UNSC's ability to get in our way, along with Atlas. We don't need to wipe them out, just knock them back, force them to rebuild themselves for a bit and buy us the time we need to deal with Ozpin and his puppets." Salem answered.

"A good strategy, but how do you plan to execute it?" Watts asked.

"We'll bait them into a battle they think they can win, and surprise them with a far larger force than they anticipated." Salem answered. "Lionheart says they don't have very many soldiers to fight with on the ground, we'll exploit that and overwhelm them."

"If your target is the UNSC, you'll want to pick something far away from Atlas." Watts suggested. "Their ship is much faster than Atlas's airships, so wherever you strike, they will get there first. Once you have the UNSC isolated, they'll be an easy target."

Salem gave it only a moment's thought, she already had a target in mind but the Doctor's words only reinforced it. "Thank you, Doctor, I believe I have a place in mind. On a related note, I'm sending Tyrian on a mission, let him know if you need anything while he's out."

"I'll make sure that I do." Watts replied. "What shall I do once I'm done with that?"

"Figure out what we can do with that alien encryption software." Salem ordered. "Even if we can't use it as a weapon, there's certainly going to be a use for something like that, we just have to find it."

"I'll see what I can do with it." Watts said.

"Make sure of it, now if you'll excuse me, I have some adjustments to make..." Salem said, leaving the laboratory for the Grimm Pools.

**Beacon Academy**

**October 12th, 1134 local time, 2552**

Ben no longer had any doubts about Ruby's gunsmithing capabilities.

Her weapon, aptly named "Crescent Rose" by its wielder, was surprisingly well put together, relative to the sheer outlandishness of the concept. The hybrid anti-material rifle and farming implement was something that no military would ever adopt, especially without the strength and extra weapon reliability offered by Aura. But Ruby wasn't a soldier, she was a Huntress, and she had demonstrated a multitude of ways that her weapon was in many ways superior to the average anti-material rifle.

But at the same time, it represented everything that made a poor weapon as well. It was too heavy, it was far too complex, there were too many moving parts, the production cost was probably more comparable to a higher-level computer system than a rifle, and from what Ruby explained, it apparently required diligent maintenance. Whereas its potential capabilities on the field were certainly impressive, it also came with massive risks. Regardless, it was very clear that she passionately loved the weapon, and that she cared for it with extreme efficiency and enthusiasm; although he would certainly not consider it a viable weapon, he did have a bit of respect for how impressive it was.

_She must be much stronger than she looks if she can just throw that thing around in a fight._ Ben thought, wondering just how much an Aura amplified a user's strength when exploited to its fullest extent.

He'd begun to respect Ruby as a whole, even through her rather obvious faults. She lacked discipline, and she couldn't focus to save her life, but she was clearly passionate about her work, and she possessed exemplary talent in the fields she pursued. Her optimism stood out to him as something very uncommon, most soldiers lacked a sense of levity in their lives, as they were frequently filled with tragedy.

He forced himself to disregard his expectations entirely for Huntsmen and Huntresses as a whole, as it was very clear that they were obsolete and would require a fresh assessment. It was also obvious that despite her age and lesser training, Ruby clearly knew what she was talking about when it came to fighting Grimm. At what seemed to be the drop of a hat, she could be surprisingly brutal when it came to discussing different tactics, to an extent that a squeamish person might call 'disturbing'.

_Curie does the same thing, now that I think about it._ Ben thought, well aware that she had a fondness for venting enemies into a vacuum during wargames, where they would rapidly suffocate.

When it came to making bullets for them to test, Ruby worked very differently than he did, working on up to three different batches of ammunition at the same time, going back and forth between the different workstations. Whereas Ben had done his best to keep the powder somewhat evenly dispersed, Ruby only seemed concerned with the actual structuring of the compound itself. Once Curie had given her a crash-course on the function and creation of smokeless powder, she adjusted her methods slightly to compensate for those age-old lessons learned by chemists hundreds of years ago.

_Results matter more than how you get them, unless those methods hamper your results._ Ben thought, remembering a common lesson from his own training. He thought it applied very well to Ruby specifically, and perhaps the Huntsmen Academies in general. _Actually, since I have her here anyways..._

"Ruby, do you mind if I ask a few questions about your organization?" Ben asked, clearly taking her by surprise somewhat, as she flinched from the shock. "Uh, sorry."

"Not a problem! You've just been pretty quiet, I wasn't expecting it." Ruby happily answered. "But I uh... don't really understand what you mean."

Ben cocked his helmet at her in confusion, he thought it was fairly self-evident. "I was referring to the Huntsmen Academies."

"Oh!" Ruby exclaimed, as the realization dawned on her. "I mean, I guess it's technically an organization... but I've never heard anyone refer to Huntsmen like that."

_Are they really that decentralized? _Ben thought, somewhat surprised. Although he was aware they were decentralized to some extent, he had assumed they would at least have some sort of organizational structure. "Well, what would you call it?"

"Well... Huntresses are a lot more... independent, I guess." Ruby answered, although it took her a moment to find the right word to describe the concept. "Once we graduate, we just kind of do our own thing on a mission-to-mission basis."

"With no command structure?" Ben asked, suddenly more concerned than ever. "Surely there's something in place to keep everyone focused."

"There is, actually, at least in some instances." Curie interjected, displaying her hologram using her chip, which Ben had simply opted to leave on the table next to what he was working on.

Theoretically, anyone could make a grab for it, but he would break their arm long before they reached her. She also enjoyed talking with her hologram displayed, and Ben didn't really see a reason not to oblige.

"Some Huntsmen and Huntresses opt to operate in specific nations or areas, and others entirely align themselves with specific nations." Curie explained. "Most of the other Huntsmen tend to operate either alongside law enforcement or as independent operatives."

"Like Atlas's Specialists... ugh..." Ruby added, with a hint of disgust in her voice.

_Well, that's a new take for certain._ Ben thought, somewhat surprised. "What's so bad about the Specialists?"

Ruby gave an unimpressed pout. "They aren't really Huntsmen, they just kinda act like them. Huntresses should be about helping everyone, not just Atlas!"

_Ah, mixed loyalties, that is a problem._ Ben thought, now understanding her concerns. "I can certainly empathize with helping everyone. Where we come from, the UNSC is the overarching military body of all of the United Earth Government. No matter where a person lives, we're responsible for their safety."

"You have one big government? Like, not even different Kingdoms?" Ruby asked, seemingly surprised.

"Well... kind of." Ben said, suddenly regretting bringing up the topic. For one thing, he was never really taught about politics in class, it wasn't very important in the grand scale of fighting the Covenant, so his Instructors brushed it off. It was also difficult to explain how there technically wasn't a civilian government anymore, after Martial Law was declared when the war with the Covenant started.

The most important thing he really understood about politics is that they tended to obstruct otherwise perfectly functional military operations, as his superiors would commonly complain about them.

"It's a multi-leveled organizational structure, like you have with individual regions within cities." Curie added, thankfully answering Ruby's question for him. "There are individual nation-states on a planet, and then the planet gets individual representatives in one larger assembly that represents the whole of the UEG."

"Uhhh..." Ruby awkwardly replied, clearly not knowing what to say.

_Yeah, I can relate._ Ben thought. "Curie, I'm not sure if you can explain the organizational structure of an entire government in one brief statement."

"Oh?" Curie snappily replied, her voice rich with snark. "If you simpletons have the brainpower to put together ammunition, you should certainly have enough left over to know who you're shooting it at!"

Ben and Ruby both looked at Curie, both surprised by her slight outburst. She suddenly looked a lot less frustrated and a lot more sheepish, as well as surprised with herself. "I uh... sorry."

"Simpleton, that's a new one." Ben noted, somewhat amused with her dialect, although he was also somewhat concerned that maybe he'd struck a nerve. "It's not a problem Curie, we all get a bit grumpy at times."

"Yeah, don't worry about it Curie. Some of my teammates can be a bit shouty sometimes too, but they're still good people." Ruby added

"Thank you, Miss Rose." Curie replied. "I did not know you had a team."

Ben gave a slight grin of amusement behind his helmet, he recognized the curiosity and Curie's voice, and the unknown didn't stay that way for long when Curie was around.

"Wait a moment..." Curie suddenly added, in an uncomfortably familiar tone of voice. It was the same one that Curie would use to point out a landmine that he was about to step on.

"What's wrong?" Ben asked, immediately pausing his work.

Curie turned her digital head to look at Ruby with some obvious reluctance. "One of your teammates wouldn't happen to be named Weiss, would they?"

_Where have I heard that name before?_ Ben thought, although his memory failed him, he had probably only ever heard it in passing conversation anyway.

"Yeah, how'd you know?" Ruby answered, seemingly oblivious to the gravity in Curie's voice.

"...Heiress to the Schnee Dust Company?" Curie cautiously added.

All of the terrible things he'd seen flashed before his eyes,

"Yes... what's the problem?" Ruby asked, before a thought must've connected in her mind and the realization clicked. "Wait... didn't you guys have some sort of issue with them?"

_Wow, I figured the news would've been all over that. Then again, Vale's been a lot less... xenophobic._ Ben thought. "Ruby, the Schnee Dust Company provoked us into an armed conflict, where we later uncovered them running a slaving operation. We're currently at war with them."

Ruby looked like she was immediately about to respond, but the real impact of his words dawned on her before she could speak. Whatever she was going to say was apparently knocked completely off course, as the only thing that came out of her mouth was a single hoarse word. "...What?"

"I am afraid Ben is entirely correct, we have both witnessed their crimes against humanity on several occasions." Curie reluctantly added. "If what I am reading is true, your teammate may have been involved with that."

Ben pinged his status light green, a silent way of confirming that he was on the same train of thought as her. She pinged hers back as green, a signal to follow her lead.

"What, no!" Ruby protested. "Weiss wouldn't do that, she's a bit crabby, and a bit mean, but she'd never enslave anyone! She's a good friend and a good person!"

_Would Beacon really allow someone with a criminal history in, especially one as violent and extensive as a slaver?_ Ben thought, quickly realizing that their suspicions were probably unjustified. "That may be true, but I hope you understand that we cannot take your word for it, due to your personal experiences with her."

Ruby's expression stonified, suddenly becoming much more serious. Subtly she shifted her posture to a fighting stance, but wisely did not reach for her weapon.

_She's willing to fight on behalf of her friend, that's admirable, especially given the fact she probably can't win. Although I'm surprised she thinks we'd just jump right to fighting._ Ben thought, somewhat unimpressed. "Relax, I'm not about to go shoot her, we're not barbarians."

Ruby let out a breath of relief. "That's good... I didn't want to have to fight you."

"Believe me, a fight is the last thing we want." Ben honestly replied.

"So... what is it you want with Weiss?" Ruby asked.

"Well, that all depends on how the Commander responds to my message... ok nevermind, he already has." Curie answered. "Ben, we've been ordered to go interrogate her."

"What?!" Ruby asked, clearly having a very definition of the word than they did.

"We'd like to ask her a few questions, that is all." Curie quickly added, which seemed to calm her down a bit.

Ruby let out another sigh of relief. "Oh, I uh, thought you meant... something else."

_Does she really think I'm going to walk up to a foreign special forces academy and just kidnap someone?_ Ben thought, taken off guard by her hasty assumption. "We're allies Ruby, we don't just kidnap one another when we don't even know whether or not they're actually supporting the enemy."

Ruby awkwardly scratched the back of her head as she thought over his words. "Yeah, that uh... makes sense, sorry."

_We really need to do a PR campaign if even our allies think we're a bunch of warmongering sociopaths._ Ben thought, more than a little pessimistic. _Or maybe they just really can't get their heads around who we really are?_

"Do not worry Miss Rose, I am also confident that your friend is innocent, but she may also have valuable information on our enemy." Curie explained. "Even the most seemingly innocuous information might help us bring down the slavers."

Ruby's expression returned to its normal excited state. "Well why didn't you just say so, I'm sure she'd be happy to help! Team RWBY is always happy to bring down some bad guys!"

Ben raised an eyebrow behind his visor as he retrieved Curie's chip. "Team RWBY?"

"It's our team name, they're all based on colors, and our initials spell out RWBY, but we just pronounce it like Ruby." she explained.

"Ah... I understand." Ben said, even though he didn't whatsoever. "I take it you'd like to come with us?"

"Absolutely!" Ruby said. "I'll lead the way!"

**Beacon Academy, Dorms**

From the first words that came out of Weiss Schnee's mouth, Ben knew exactly what this conversation was going to consist of. She wasn't the kind of person to have a passionate debate, she was the kind of person to have a passionate argument, complete with what seemed to be an unhealthy amount of arrogance.

He'd completely droned out the verbal artillery exchange that had erupted between Weiss and Ruby. The claims she labeled against the UNSC included them being "extraterrestrial invaders, terrorists, and inhuman monsters", while Ruby tried to counter her arguments as the voice of reason.

_Strong language from someone with such an... impractical, appearance._ Ben thought, noticing that she wore the same high-heels he'd seen the day prior. _And those "Bunk Beds" are just a trip to the Infirmary waiting to happen._

It seemed that he'd underestimated how much false information Weiss had been digesting, likely courtesy of her Father, if her mentioning of the man had anything to say about it. So far, he had yet to interject, as he figured that Ruby probably had the best chance of calming her down and reducing the argument into a calmer debate, but that was quickly becoming less feasible. The expression on Ruby's face did give off the impression that she had probably expected this, although that did not justify Weiss's attitude. Ruby herself had apparently been fairly out of the loop regarding the conflict between the UNSC and the SDC, so it gave some impression as to how Weiss's views had become so skewed.

"If she is so convinced that we are hostile, why doesn't she attack us?" Curie privately asked him, seemingly more curious than insulted.

"Angry people don't think straight, they make errors, or otherwise avoidable mistakes. Either that, or maybe she's not as convinced as she believes she is." Ben replied, double-checking that his microphone was off, as that comment probably would've riled her up even more. "Does the Commander really think she has any valuable intel? Because this seems like a waste of our time. She's a child, even if she is the daughter of public enemy number one, I doubt her intel is any good."

"I could not say, although if her conduct is any indication, her own intelligence is clearly out of date." Curie replied, somewhat cheekily, to which he couldn't help but grin. "Still, our orders stand, we should try to see if we can get her to cooperate."

Even through his private conversation with Curie, Weiss kept going, redoubling her efforts every time that Ben thought she was about to stop. Being a Spartan, he was no stranger to verbal abuse, but this was something entirely different. Weiss didn't yell or scream, instead, she talked relatively calmly, bolstered by an unjustified confidence.

_I suppose it's better than throwing a tantrum, although not by much. _Ben thought, deeply unimpressed with what Beacon apparently had to offer with some of its other students. Although Ruby would have made an excellent recruit, Weiss's attitude would've earned her months worth of latrine duty. _She's toxic, and whatever other merits she may have, they do not justify behaving like this, and that goes double for a soldier!_

"Ma'am." Ben calmly said, gathering the attention of both of them.

"I will deal with you later!" Weiss snapped, before quickly returning her attention to Ruby. "But you, I thought you were starting to shape up as a leader!"

"And I thought you were starting to be less bossy!" Ruby retorted, seemingly fed up with Weiss's rampant stubbornness.

"Ma'am... Ruby?" Ben tried to secure their attention, but to no avail.

_Whatever I did to deserve this mission, I've learned my lesson..._ The exasperated Supersoldier thought, as he stood in between a pair of bickering teenagers. "Alright, we tried the nice way. Curie, get me some feedback."

"How loud?" Curie asked. He could sense a hint of doubt in her voice, alluding to some possible sympathy for the two Young Huntresses.

"Just enough to shut them up." Ben answered.

Engaging his microphone, Ben let Curie take the lead, and manipulate the sensitive instrument to create a deafening cacophony using an audio loop and some heavily distorted audio. Both Ruby and Weiss immediately quit their bickering and covered their ears as they both started yelling at him. Once they were both focused solely on him, Curie killed the feedback loop.

"What is wrong with you?!" Weiss demanded.

"Why would you do that?!" Ruby added, still instinctively covering her ears.

_Their Auras would have blocked any long term damage, even if it was loud enough to cause it._ Ben thought, as he replied. "I could not secure your attention by conventional means, so I altered my strategy."

"What was that?" Ruby asked, a hint of interest in her anger.

"A feedback loop, but in this case, I mainly just used it to break up that pointless debate." Ben said.

"Pointless?!" Weiss demanded. "I'll have you know-"

"No, you won't." Ben stated, shutting off her defiance with a crude interruption. "You, Ruby, Curie and I are going to have a responsible, productive conversation about the actions of your Father and his Company."

Weiss huffed with annoyance, but apparently she wasn't entirely amiss to a calmer debate, as she complied. "What's there to say? Whatever petty crimes my Father may have committed in the past, they don't compare to the murder of dozens of people!"

"Your Father's Company has actually done that exact thing." Ben immediately countered. "After a disastrous first contact where we were provoked into a conflict, we discovered a slaving operation under the direct command of your father."

"Do you honestly expect me to believe that, just because you said it?" She snarkily asked.

"No, I don't." Ben answered. "You have a scroll, right?"

"That's not-" She began, but was interrupted by Curie.

"She does." Curie interjected, doing her best to keep her voice neutral. Weiss was very surprised to hear a second voice from Ben's armor, which caused Ruby to snicker in amusement.

_Good, that'll make this easier._ Ben thought. "Copy over all declassified and incriminating captured intelligence over to her scroll, use my helmet's transmitter if you need a better signal."

Curie gave an exasperated sigh. "I can't fit that much information onto a scroll, Ben. But I'll copy over the most important ones."

Weiss raised a hand. "Hold on, you can't just hack my scroll!"

"Why not?" Ben asked, seemingly catching her off guard. "I could very easily convey this evidence in a more inconvenient manner, but I fail to see how that helps either of us."

"Do not worry Miss Schnee, I already have access to your entire family's personal network. I don't need to hack it again." Curie offered. Although she may have been trying to calm down the Heiress, it had the opposite effect. "There, I believe I have copied over all of the most important pieces of evidence that we have collected so far."

Weiss's scroll buzzed in her pocket, which she withdrew and opened, opening one of the thousands of downloads she had just received. While she silently read, Ruby stood forward and awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "So... you can just, do that?"

"My infiltration suite is capable of perforating any firewall that your planet can conjure, Miss Rose." Curie nonchalantly answered. "Please keep in mind, I was expressly outfitted to infiltrate an Alien Communications Network under the stresses of combat, I know what I am doing."

"That's... creepy, but also kinda cool... I guess." Ruby replied. Ben couldn't really see why she thought that, and did not find it relevant enough to their current topic to ask.

"This..." Weiss whispered, hating what she saw even as she read on. "This is wrong! T-there's no way he'd do something like this, let alone with so many people... how would he not get caught?"

"He did." Ben pointed out. "Even if we never showed up, Atlas would've put things together at some point. Like it or not, we're doing your job for you."

"Ben... you said they're enslaving people... has anyone, you know-" Ruby awkwardly prompted. Although she had trouble saying it, it was very apparent what she wanted to ask.

"Yes Ruby, people have died." Ben bluntly answered. There was no point in sugarcoating it, especially to another soldier. "And a lot of them were Faunus Civilians, who we weren't able to save."

"I... see, well, thanks, I guess..." Ruby said, clearly emotionally drained.

"Believe me Miss Rose, there is nothing that we would like more than to tell you that everyone made it out alive, but that would not be honest." Curie said, offering a more gentle approach to breaking the news.

Weiss continued to read through page after page of captured intelligence, before finally coming upon her first image. She closed her scroll in utter disgust, and seemingly, a small amount of fear. When she spoke, she sounded utterly defeated. "How... how could they do something like that?"

"If you can't understand the actions of your enemy, think clinically and disregard morality." Ben instructed, quoting another one of his lessons. "In this case, the answer is fairly simple, it's cheaper to imprison slaves than it is to pay workers."

Weiss's face went completely pale, whatever sense of denial she had was gone. Apparently what Ben had said must've clicked with some kind of personal memory or piece of information, because Weiss's reaction was explosive. "That... that wretched bastard!"

"We're sorry to be the bearers of bad news, Miss Schnee." Curie said, her voice rich with regret. "For what it's worth, the rest of your family is safe, and apparently uninvolved. Your sister is even helping us as a military advisor from Atlas."

Every ounce of anger that Weiss had gathered was gone just as quickly as it had arrived. "...Winter?"

"Wait, you have a sister?!" Ruby asked, suddenly excited.

"Ruby, no offense, but we can discuss this another time." Weiss ignored her friend's question as she massaged her temples. "You... what did you just say about my sister?"

_Now we're getting somewhere. _Ben thought, although he elected to let Curie explain the situation, as she would certainly do it much better than him.

"She is currently aboard the UNSC Dominion, acting as a strategic advisor on behalf of the Atlesian Military. The information that she has given us has been invaluable." Curie answered, seemingly happy to have some good news to deliver.

"...My sister is... in space?" Weiss asked, blinking with disbelief.

Ben could tell she was starting to get slightly overwhelmed by the revelations, but it was a thousand times better than her hostile ranting.

"Well, technically I'm not supposed to tell you where the Dominion is, but I can safely tell you that she has been to space on multiple occasions." Curie said.

Weiss took a slow, deep breath, and let it out equally slowly. "Can I... just get a moment, to think about all this, please?"

"Absolutely. Right Ben?" Ruby said, although her tone made it very clear that she would not take no for an answer.

_Fine, it's not like she'll be able to think clearly right now anyway._ Ben thought. "Absolutely. But Weiss, I need you to come speak to us whenever you're ready. I have some critical questions I need you to answer."

"I can do that." Weiss said, with an exhausted nod.

Ruby silently but insistently led him out of the room, and the two of them began to walk their way back to the Dust Lab. "You know, you could have broken that a bit more gently!"

"That wouldn't have made the fact that her dad's a war criminal any less true." Ben calmly argued.

"Well... maybe lead into it a bit more, next time." Ruby awkwardly replied.

"Hopefully there is no next time." Ben said, to which Ruby gave a silent nod of agreement.


	41. Chapter 41

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 12th, 1542 local time, 2552**

With the Grimm dead and the military standing down, Atlas began the slow process of recovering from its exciting but terrifying brush with a threat to its very existence. The Council and media set about trying to calm everyone down, although it would likely be days before the full extent of the protesting settled down.

_Hopefully by then, there's no Schnee Dust Company left for them to be angry at._ Richard thought.

The atmosphere on the bridge had lightened somewhat. Although the officers remained quiet and kept their demeanor professional, it wasn't lost on him just how much their victory had affected the crew. Little things like Lieutenant Chen humming happily as she worked, or the extra levity in Ensign Williams' step gave away that maybe morale had fallen further than Richard had realized.

Monitors around the bridge relayed multiple news feeds from Atlas, and the results were mixed. Some stations seemed to be more open to trusting the UNSC, while some seemed a bit more standoffish. Of particular note was a candidate for the Atlesian Council elections, Robyn Hill, the same woman whom Richard had watched give a grand speech against the SDC. She'd managed to end up on some kind of talk show, where Richard heard her make a number of interesting statements.

"These revelations about the Schnee Dust Company mean that we need to do more than reevaluate our assessment of the UNSC." She said, seemingly in the middle of a calm but passionate debate with the host of the show.

"What about them?" The host of the talk show asked. He was the kind of guy who Richard imagined went to sleep in their business suit and probably foreclosed on orphanages for fun. "Whether or not the SDC is committing slavery, the UNSC has still attacked and killed our citizens. We have it on record that actions taken by the UNSC have led to the worst shortages of dust and other major materials we've seen in recent decades."

Robyn crossed her arms in a frustrated manner. "Citizens? Altas has declared the SDC a terrorist organization due to its heinous actions. We have the UNSC to thank for revealing just how bad things have gotten." She paused a moment, breathing deeply before continuing. "While they have caused a dust shortage, we can't forget why that is, because they have removed the labour force of the world's largest supplier. A labour force that just so happens to be slaves in all but name."

"Whatever General Ironwood's called them, they're still the world's foremost su-" The host of the show began to argue, but rather amusing, Robyn shut him up with a single angry glare.

"They're slavers and murderers that nearly started a war between Atlas and the group we might not be able to beat... and as of now, armed and dangerous criminals." Robyn countered. "I know you love to criticize the White Fang on this show Jim, and the SDC is certainly better funded."

Bradford gave a soft chuckle from behind Richard's chair, alerting him to his executive officer's presence. "Yeah, I like her too."

"Who, Robyn Hill?" Winter asked, momentarily looking up from whatever she was doing on her datapad. Oddly enough, she seemed distracted, which made Richard somewhat concerned about what she was doing.

_It's probably not important, I'm sure Ensign Gillespie would notify me if something was out of order._ Richard thought.

"Yeah, at least, if you're talking about the Councilwoman candidate." Bradford answered.

Winter gave him a look of disapproval. "You know, Huntress or not, she's faced charges of robbery and sedition before."

Bradford shrugged. "That's fairly tame, actually, especially for a politician."

Winter seemed quite reasonably surprised. "Are you serious? That doesn't bother you?"

Richard decided it was probably time to interject. "We've lived under martial law for twenty-six years, Specialist. Please keep in mind that our sense of justice may be a bit... skewed, by what we've seen. And besides, charges are accusations, not a definitive legal statement."

Winter did not seem at all satisfied by his answer, but she gave a firm nod and returned to what she was previously doing.

_If that's how she feels about minor crimes like that, how would she feel about what ONI's done in the past... or my own crimes for that matter?_ Richard thought, quickly banishing the images that flashed in his mind.

"Sir, I have a message for you, from an "Evening News Team"." Lieutenant Chen said. "They're interested in hearing about what we did in the battle, and why."

"By my count, that makes three news stations who have had the balls to actually call us." Bradford said, with a hint of amusement. "Shall I handle this one Sir? I imagine Lieutenant Oswald already has hands full with the other two."

"Good thinking, see to it, and remember to keep things... digestible." Richard instructed. "Oh, and keep it brief, we'll have plenty of time for interviews and public relations once the SDC is out of the fight."

"Aye Sir." Bradford said, before walking across the bridge to join Chen at what was now the communication station.

_On that note..._ Richard thought, before reaching to enable the shipwide intercom. "Lieutenant Jorge, please report to the War Room."

Once he had repeated the instruction, he disabled the intercom and turned his attention to Specialist Schnee. "Specialist, please come with me, we have a mission to plan. Bradford, you have the bridge!"

"Yes Sir." Winter said, stowing away her datapad and following him off the bridge. Bradford also gave a quiet acknowledgment, but Richard had effectively shifted his focus by then. The end of the war was in sight, and he sought to reach it.

**Beacon Academy**

**October 12th, 1553 local time, 2552**

To Curie, Beacon represented a marvelously potent distraction. Usually she found it quite easy to focus on singular tasks, but lately, she'd been uncharacteristically scatterbrained, and found herself getting sidetracked by pretty much any minor oddity. She attributed it to the exceptionally fascinating environment around her, as it played directly into her natural curiosity.

How often did one end up in an entirely different dimension than the one they were created in? How often did said dimension have laws of physics so different and yet so similar to their own? How of-

Curie cut herself off. Like she had realized, there were simply so many distractions.

One excellent example of such a distraction was Blake Belladonna. She was a teammate of Ruby Rose and, as Curie quickly discovered with minimal research, the missing daughter of Kali and Ghira Belladonna. Currently, she was making her introductions to Ben with the help of Ruby, which Curie used as an opportunity to quickly file a report to the Dominion detailing her discovery. Although the discovery had little strategic value, it was worth reporting solely for the sake of helping their closest ally.

_Hopefully, I can convince Miss Belladonna to give her parents a call. _Curie thought optimistically, as she read through the official missing person report. _I wonder why she hasn't? Surely she knows that Menagerie is reconnected to the CCTS... or perhaps, she left on her own volition? It is not unheard of for a teenager to run away for the sake of joining the military._

"Curie, are you still with us?" Ben asked, his voice carrying a hint of faint amusement. She snapped herself back to attention, she had once again become distracted; she would need to try harder to stay focused.

"Hmm? Yes, I am well." Curie said, displaying her hologram as she replied, which clearly took Blake off-guard. "My apologies Miss Belladonna, I had hoped that my companions would have warned you about my-"

"How did you know my name?" Blake demanded. Curiously, there didn't seem to be any hostility in her voice, more like an odd form of defensive curiosity.

_The attitude of a scholar._ Curie noticed, immediately feeling a hint of approval. She decided that perhaps it would be a good idea to mislead Blake and give off an impression of not knowing much so that she could learn more about her. Although it was dishonest, driving her away was the last thing Curie wanted.

"I read your personnel file from Beacon's public archive." Curie fibbed, it was technically the truth, but she had done quite a bit more than that. "Why, is something wrong?"

Blake awkwardly scratched her head. "Oh... uh, not at all."

"Think nothing of it." Curie replied, happy to diffuse the issue. "It's good to meet another member of Miss Rose's Squad."

"Miss Rose's Squad..." Ruby recited to herself, seemingly mulling it over, before giving a shrug. "Eh, I still prefer team RWBY."

"It does have a better ring to it." Blake voiced her agreement. "But, yeah... good to meet you too... I guess."

_Hmm, she seems somewhat uncomfortable, perhaps she is just not very social? _Curie noted to herself. "So, what brings you to the Laboratory, Miss-"

"Blake." She softly interjected. "Please, just... call me Blake."

"...Blake?" Curie awkwardly finished her sentence, before she made the connection that explained Blake's odd behavior. _Ah, Ruby must not know about Blake's heritage, and she must want to keep her true identity concerned. Perhaps a further investigation in the future is warranted after all..._

"Oh, Yang-" Blake began.

"Curie, that next batch of nitrocellulose is probably done by now." Ben interrupted, before realizing he'd just made a social faux pas. "Uh, sorry ma'am."

"Not a problem at all Ben. Would you please store it and begin the next batch?" Curie replied, leaving Ben with some instructions, something that would keep him busy while she talked to Blake and Ruby.

While he walked back to his station, Curie turned back to the young Huntresses, who seemed a bit taken aback by Ben's odd actions. "Sorry about the interruption, when working with explosive mixtures, expedient communication takes priority over social pleasantries."

Blake eyed the Spartan as he walked away, seemingly trying to memorize the details of Ben's armor. "Don't worry, I'm used to having chatty teammates."

"Yeah... hey!" Ruby said indignantly. Blake didn't smile but the curve on the edge of her lips showed that she found it amusing nonetheless.

"But like I was saying, Ruby's sister wanted me to check on her and ask what she was doing. She's uh... busy." Blake explained, a hint of reluctance reaching her voice towards the end of her statement.

"She didn't hurt anyone, right?" Ruby asked, sounding genuinely concerned, which inspired a bit of worry in Curie.

"No... well yeah, but... not permanently." Blake awkwardly answered. "Ok, so you know how she took on Cardin and Russell in a match?"

"...No..." Ruby replied, her concern intensifying immensely, inspiring Curie to do a brief search of the campus for Ruby's aforementioned sister using the campus' rather elaborate camera network.

She quickly located her, a young woman named Yang Xiao Long. She was located in Beacon's infirmary, although she was seemingly unharmed. The two young men beside her however, were not, and it seemed that Miss Xiao Long was getting a stern talking to from an older woman, an instructor at Beacon. It seemed like she was holding a... riding crop?

_If I wanted to design an unconventional weapon, I can certainly think of better options..._ Curie thought, somewhat perturbed by the Huntsman and Huntresses apparent aversion to capable, conventional weapons.

"She is currently in Beacon's infirmary, but she is unharmed." Curie interjected before Blake could offer her own, awkward explanation. "The two Huntsman students that Blake just mentioned have suffered from moderate lacerations and multiple broken fingers and toes, likely inflicted by Miss Xiao Long. I believe they have suffered a training accident."

The color drained from Ruby's face. She gave a faint, squeak of a response. "Oh."

"Don't worry Ruby, broken fingers fix easily!" Ben yelled from down the room, Curie sent him a green status symbol as thanks for trying to reassure her.

"Do not worry about your sister Miss Rose, I'm sure it was a mistake." Curie said.

"No, I'm uh... not so sure..." Ruby replied.

"I know it wasn't." Blake mumbed before sighing with frustration. "I'll go check up on her..."

"Thanks Blake." Ruby said, before Blake left. "Yeah uh, sorry Curie, my sister can be a little..."

"Violent?" Curie suggested, now understanding Ruby's concern. "Or perhaps ruthless?"

Ruby's expression flickered in a way that Curie didn't recognize. Curie assumed that it was a negative reaction, and immediately began thinking up how to reassure her. "She's... a bit of both of those, actually."

"I live inside the head of a supersoldier, I can empathize with having a violent partner." Curie said, hoping that having some common ground would help her.

"Not like she ever complains..." Ben teasingly interjected from his station.

Ruby giggled at their exchange, but Curie decided to continue anyway, as she was not finished speaking. "Well, I don't. Just because a person is capable of violence, doesn't mean that they're necessarily a bad person. A soldier has to be willing to hurt people, but that does not mean that they need to forget who they are to do that."

"Like a Huntress." Ruby noted, seemingly fixated on her words.

"Precisely." Curie said. "Although I would compare your organization more strongly to a sort of institutionalized mercenary group with an unusually strong moral complex."

"...Thanks?" Ruby said, seemingly confused as to whether or not that was a compliment.

Curie recognized that a more direct method might be needed. "I intended to offer a sense of reassurance to you, that just because your sister is willing to hurt people does not mean that she is a bad person, but you made that connection yourself."

"Oh!" Ruby said, now seemingly understanding what Curie was trying to say. "Don't worry, I know that Yang's a good person!"

Curie adjusted her expression to display her confusion. "Then why did you react negatively when I suggested that she had violent habits?"

"...Negatively?" Ruby asked, seemingly confused. "I was a little surprised, given that you've never met her, but I wasn't angry or anything like that."

Curie mulled Ruby's statement over in her head. "It appears I offended you, my apologies Miss Rose."

"Oh, it's not a problem!" Ruby reassured her.

"I don't mean to interrupt on your conversation, but can I get your help with this Ruby?" Ben interjected.

"Not a problem, I'm on it!" Ruby acknowledged, offering a mediocre salute before returning to her tasks.

_She did not seem to hesitate when it came to returning to duty... I wonder what kind of soldier she would've turned out to be?_ Curie thought, before dismissing the unimportant inquiry and returning to her research.

**Beacon Academy, Team RWBY's Dorm Room**

**October 12th, 1833 local time, 2552**

In truth, Weiss had not only lied to Ruby and Sergeant Benjamin, but she had lied to herself.

She hadn't actually wanted time to think, she had just wanted time to read through her father's personal files. The woman's voice, which Weiss assumed was some kind of alien A.I, had given her a wealth of knowledge not just about her father's crimes, but about her father's other activities. She began to feel less sad and angry as time went on, her emotions only replaced with a dull sense of exhaustion at the overwhelming nature of what she was reading.

She could barely bring herself to read some of the files, and she immediately wrote off several others as things she would never touch, no matter how curious she was. Just by reading the titles, she could get a fairly solid grasp at the concepts.

_I... I don't need to read that._ Weiss thought, swiping away at one of the offending files, sending it away from the main folder, where she would never have to look at it. _I can't delete them... all of this evidence is too valuable. But if the UNSC has copies... well, maybe I can afford to get rid of these._

She tried to keep her mind clear despite the circumstances. She knew that a Huntress was supposed to think clearly, and not let their emotions get the better of them when confronted with difficult situations. Still, it was difficult to think in anything but irrational ramblings. She was immediately confronted with a strong doubt of practically everything that she knew, which did not help her focus on what she was reading.

Even despite everything that Weiss was seeing, there was still a vain part of her mind that clung to the hope that maybe it was all fake. That maybe the UNSC had forged all of these files in an attempt to fool her and turn her against her father. That maybe her father was just genuinely misunderstood, and that the UNSC was the enemy.

But the more she read, the more sense it all made. For one, the slaves weren't listed as Weiss had expected in the documents, they were simply called "employees", just like any other worker.

Not paying the workers, keeping them against their will below the surface, the beatings, the brandings, it had all originated from a single killing of a Faunus worker, where it all spiraled out of control. There was no structure to it, no rhyme nor reason, just hatred from the human guards, and a cold will to stand by their "accomplishments".

_Apathy, my father just... doesn't care..._ Weiss realized, feeling utterly destroyed. His personal bigotry had made him completely apathetic to what was happening, and that blended perfectly with what she knew of him. He'd never been truly evil, nor even particularly clever, he was just an angry careless man in a position of power.

She closed her scroll and took several deep breaths, she forced herself to stay calm. In that solitary, cold moment, Weiss had no idea what to do. She thought it over for at least half an hour, sitting on her bed, and pondering what to do with what she now knew.

_Help the UNSC?!_ A cold, wrathful voice in her mind suggested. _You're a Huntress, and putting evil in its place is your job!_

"I... I can't." Weiss said, to nobody in particular. The empty room around her didn't even echo her voice.

_What choice do you have now?_ The voice snarkily asked. _Maybe Blake was right, maybe you are just a bad person! Maybe you won't ever be a tenth of the woman that your sister is!_

All at once, her mind rushed back into a state of cohesion. The UNSC soldier had said that Winter was aboard their ship, and helping them fight the SDC! In the blink of an eye, her doubt, sadness, and exhaustion vanished, replaced by determination. She opened her scroll again, and quickly scrolled to her sister's name in her list of contacts.

_No matter what happens, I trust Winter to do the right thing._ Weiss thought. _Whatever she says I should do, I'm going to do it._

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 12th, 1803 local time, 2552**

"What's the situation?" Richard asked, returning to the war room after a rather unremarkable visit to the head. Around the holotable was a handful of officers who had been joined by Winter. Jorge, Lieutenant Clark, and Thomas paused their conversation and turned to him.

"I've... just received a call from my younger sister, Weiss." Winter answered, carefully concealing her break in professionalism by clearing her throat. Although she concealed her emotions so well that Richard genuinely couldn't decipher what she was covering up.

_I've met ONI officers that are easier to read than her. _Richard thought. "I take it that she had something important to say?"

"That she did." Winter answered emotionlessly. "Apparently she ran into one of your soldiers at Beacon Academy, and that he and your A.I shared everything that you've uncovered with her."

Richard nodded for her to continue, he had already known that. He'd instructed them to try to convince Weiss to share whatever intelligence that she could with them, although Curie had warned him that the results might be lackluster. For whatever reason, Weiss must've contacted Winter.

_Maybe they just trust each other? They are sisters after all..._ Richard thought, cautiously optimistic for what Winter had to say.

"Weiss... didn't know the full picture of the war, unfortunately." Winter reluctantly said. Just beneath the surface of her words, Richard sensed a cold, unyielding sense of hatred, one that sent a chill down his spine. "Needless to say, she was quite disturbed by what you discovered."

"That's good, it shows that she's got a conscience." Bradford bluntly stated, to which every other person in the room looked at him in surprise.

Winter glared daggers at the man before continuing. "I talked with her for some time, and I managed to convince her that helping you is the right thing to do."

"Her support is certainly appreciated, as is yours." Richard said. He was fully aware that practically everything the UNSC had done on Remnant so far had been plagued by disaster, so having Winter speak in support of them, especially to close family, was a greatly appreciated gesture. "Was she able to recall any information regarding their stronghold?"

"She did, and I made notes of everything that she was able to tell us." Winter answered with no small amount of pride, no doubt for her sister. "Admittedly, it wasn't much. But once I combined it with what little I knew, and what your recon elements have provided, I believe that we have enough information to formulate a plan of attack."

Although he did his best to suppress it, Richard couldn't resist the sense of optimism. _Maybe this is it, we end this war right now. Then we'll be able to take it easy for a bit, really become accustomed to who we're sharing a planet with._

"We should call the General." Jorge suggested. "If he has forces to contribute, he needs to be involved here."

"Good thinking. Lieutenant Clark, do you mind handling that?" Richard asked.

"Not a problem Commander." Clark replied, taking a step back from the table and reaching for his earpiece.

Winter looked somewhat uncomfortable during the silence, something that Richard immediately sought to address. "Specialist, is something wrong?"

She thought for a moment, before letting out a reluctant sigh. "I wish there was another way to do this. Maybe a way to goad them into surrendering, but I think it's too late for that."

"We can't change the past." Jorge unexpectedly interjected. "We just have to... live with what's happened, and make the most of what we still have to keep moving forward."

Richard was taken somewhat off guard by Jorge's comment. He had shown himself to be, like most Spartans, a relatively soft-spoken man. _I wonder what inspired him to speak up?_

"That's... quite insightful, Lieutenant." Thomas commented, seemingly just as surprised as Richard was.

"I've had a lot of time to think." Jorge replied, his voice devoid of any considerable emotion.

"Well, you're certainly not wrong." Winter said, glancing at Jorge with a modicum of gratitude. "Maybe we can't change the past, but at the very least we can end this war, and bring peace back to Atlas."

The silence went on for only a couple more moments, before Clark spoke again. "Connection established Sir. Are you with us General?"

"I can hear you, yes." General Ironwood's mildly distorted voice echoed throughout the room from the speakers in the holotable. "Commander Richard, what was it you had to say?"

"Specialist Schnee has just acquired a fresh dataset on the remaining SDC holdout at the Central Distribution Center." Richard explained. "We're going to formulate an attack strategy, and I was hoping that you would be able to supply some forces to help us."

_Without the Grimm breathing down their necks, he's short on excuses._ Richard thought, wondering if the General was going to put up a fight when it came to relinquishing forces for the attack. It took him a few seconds to respond, a hint that he was putting some thought into it.

"I'm afraid that might not be the best idea." Ironwood finally said, seemingly with a hint of reluctance. "The theft of three entire Cruisers and the myriad of defections we've suffered proves that we're still having issues of... loyalty. Whatever forces I send would need time to be examined for these individuals, and with a Dust shortage looming over our heads... we can't afford to wait."

"Unfortunately Sir, he's right." Thomas added. "I have all five of the major nations on Remnant on board with our financial plan, but without those freighters..."

"We'd need to redo the whole thing." Richard finished his statement, his voice rich with frustration at their predicament. If they did wait for Ironwood to straighten out his army, the Dust shortage would only get worse. They needed the SDCs freighters to keep Remnant safe, and that meant that they needed to act fast, before the SDC did something desperate.

The sympathy in Ironwood's voice told him that there was nothing the General wanted more than to smash the SDC with a battalion of his men, but it was an excuse that neither of them wanted to be as potent as it was. After the outrage in Atlas, it would look bad for Ironwood's men to cool their heels while the UNSC did all the work, and both of them knew it. Richard meanwhile, was unhappy that his men would be faced with steep odds yet again, while potentially useful forces were left in practically useless positions.

_But we've faced steep odds before, and we'll do it again._ Richard thought. _And we have a few ways to even the playing field._

"I agree, the risk is too great." Richard reluctantly agreed. "We'll do this ourselves then, the intel that we've received from both Weiss and Winter Schnee will have to suffice."

"But that doesn't mean we can't help you." Ironwood stated. "I have a team of Specialists at my disposal who I know that I can trust. While you attack the Central Distribution Center, we'll launch our raid on Schnee Manor, and capture their leadership."

_Hmm, that would be a much better use of a single team of Special Forces then what I would have suggested._ Richard thought. "That's good thinking."

"General." Winter interjected. "I know the Schnee Household layout, may I lead the raid?"

"What do you... oh." Bradford quietly said, seemingly having momentarily forgotten just what Winter's relation of Jacques Schnee actually was.

_To be fair, the resemblance is... nonexistent, actually. _Richard thought, thinking back to the profile they'd assembled on their primary target.

"Denied, The UNSC may still need your help." Ironwood replied.

Winter's shoulders slumped very slightly, and even through her stringent professionalism, Richard could sense her disappointment. It only took Richard a moment's thought to realize that maybe he could say something on her behalf, and more importantly, that he probably should.

_Why not? It's not like she hasn't done her part to help us, why not help her back, even in a little way like this?_ Richard thought, recognizing that there was nothing that Winter wanted more than to go on that mission, and frankly, she was well qualified for it.

"Actually General, I believe that Specialist Schnee would be far better suited towards your operation then our strike." Richard said with a sly grin, seemingly taking Winter completely off guard. She gave him a look of utter shock and surprise, and remained utterly silent.

There was a moment of hesitation from the General while Winter looked at Richard with a look of genuine bewilderment, finally his voice spoke again. "Are you certain?"

"I am, she's already contributed what she could on the intelligence front, and we now understand the mechanisms Aura and Semblances, and what they mean on the modern battlefield. She'd do far more good with you than with us." Richard said, not betraying a hint of further emotion on his face. "That being said, I believe that after this mission is done, I still need her help with several other matters, and would appreciate her continued assistance."

"...Very well. Specialist, return to Atlas Academy by 2400, we'll have planning of our own to do." General Ironwood said, after a moment's thought. "Did you need anything else, Commander?"

"Not as of right now, but we'll give you a call if that changes, Dominion out." Richard replied, before closing the transmission.

Everyone around the table looked at him with a look of mild surprise, while Winter was still looking at him with utter confusion. "Was something wrong, Specialist?"

"You didn't have to do that, Commander." Winter said, in a rare moment of humility. "But... thank you."

"You offered to help Corporal Fairfire with… whatever is wrong with her, I figured that I owed you one." Richard replied. The other officers in the room looked to Winter with an expression of surprise, except for Bradford, who gave her a look of begrudging respect. "And I wasn't lying when I said you'll do more good on the ground."

"I understand." Winter said, not betraying any emotion. Still, her earlier disappointment was long gone.

"Speak with Fireball when you're ready to depart. You're dismissed, Specialist." Richard said. He thought about making a joking comment about giving her father a few swift kicks on his behalf, but figured that she probably wouldn't appreciate the gesture.

Winter offered a sharp salute, before departing from the room.

"Well, that was awfully nice of you." Thomas somewhat cynically said. "It's not everyday that a young woman gets the chance to arrest her war criminal of a father."

"We look out for those who look out for us." Bradford answered, speaking the exact words that Richard was going to say. "Besides, she's not going to hit anything with a sword while she's inside our ship... at least, I hope not."

That earned a brief chuckle from the other officers, before Richard cleared his throat to get everyone's attention again. "We still have a job to do gentlemen, let's get to it."

**UNSC Dominion, Sickbay**

**October 12th, 1911 local time, 2552**

While Fairfire and Winter participated in what Nathan could only describe as meditation on the floor of Sickbay, he undertook the final calisthenics he needed to pass to return to duty, namely a series of grueling stretches. His Aura had worked wonders to speed along his healing, along with the help of the Doctors aboard the Dominion. At Winter's request, he remained completely silent, but couldn't help his curiosity as he watched the two try to force Fairfire's Semblance, which she may or may not even have, into activation.

"A Semblance is most commonly viewed as an extension of your Aura, although this connection is quite inconsistent." Winter explained. "Your Semblance is completely unique to you, even if someone else might have a similar Semblance, chances are it's for a different reason."

"A reason?" Fairfire asked.

Winter stood up and drew her blade, summoning a small blue glyph on the floor of the Sickbay, before rapidly dispelling it. Even from across the room, Nathan noted how cold it suddenly felt. "A Semblance is, like your Aura, an extension of who you are as a person, your soul. They are not the same, but they are closely connected."

_Ok, I get that, but what does that mean?_ Nathan thought, but forced himself to keep silent.

"I'm... not sure I understand." Fairfire admitted, from her cross-legged position.

Winter frowned. "You've used your Aura before, correct?"

"Yeah, I've been trying to heal my leg with it, ever since Mags activated it." Fairfire answered. "Why?"

"It's the same principle." Winter explained. "How would you describe using your Aura, what does it feel like?"

Fairfire's facial expression shifted to one of deep thought. "...Like a gut instinct, like lashing out at something trying to attack you, or like... thinking, I guess."

"Well, I suppose that's not the worst explanation I've heard..." Winter replied, seemingly a bit begrudgingly. "Your Semblance should be similar, especially if it's tied to your emotional state of mind, like I think it is."

"You... think?" Fairfire asked, with a hint of doubt.

"I don't know for certain if your semblance influenced your actions in Atlas, Corporal, but I strongly suspect that it did." Winter admitted. "So, let's give this a shot, shall we? Focus on trying to conjure your Aura, we'll start with something simple, like a defensive barrier."

Fairfire's Aura flickered as she conjured a barrier around her. Like most of the Dominion's crew, she hadn't yet learned how to create a passively-activated barrier, which apparently required a great degree of time to master. Still, just for the sake of following along and maybe even discovering his own Semblance, Nathan decided to join in, and conjured a shield of his own.

_It's like a muscle, it gets stronger and easier to use the more that you train it._ Nathan thought, quoting one of the earlier classes that Winter had given on the usage of a Semblance, although so far there was only a single person on the Dominion who could use theirs, and Nathan didn't know him.

With Fairfire's barrier up, Winter continued to speak. "Now, focus on the base of your Aura, where do you feel it coming from?"

"...The brain." Fairfire answered, after a moment's thought.

Winter seemed somewhat unimpressed, but continued. "Focus on the source of your Aura, and try channeling it into something else."

"Like what?" Fairfire asked, seemingly echoing Nathan's thoughts.

Winter considered it for a moment, as if assembling a strategy. "Try to focus on something in the room, and try reaching your Aura out to them."

While Fairfire followed Winter's instructions, Nathan did the same, reaching his Aura out to the wheelchair in the corner of the room. What happened immediately after surprised him so badly that he inadvertently let out a scream as he fell on his butt.

As if someone had switched out the lights, his vision shifted to one of black, and he couldn't see anything. Fairfire was shouting in panic, while Winter was shouting some kind of command, but he was too busy furiously blinking and rubbing his eyes to understand what they were saying.

He stopped touching his eyes as something bumped into him, an outline of a person standing next to him and reaching down to him appeared, as if suddenly becoming a part of the world. More details began to emerge, like the outlines of the hospital beds, and what was fairly apparently Specialist Schnee standing behind Fairfire.

"Nathan, Nathan whats wrong?!" She demanded.

"I can't see!" Nathan answered, his voice filled with more panic then we would have liked.

The color failed to return to his eyes, before he spotted a single dark green object in the endless void of grey that was the rest of the world. The wheelchair he had tried to focus on stood unmoving, as if it was the only thing of any importance.

"What, what the hell?!" Nathan asked aloud.

"What is it?" Fairfire asked, seemingly having taken an effort to calm herself down.

Nathan didn't answer, instead focusing on the only object that had any color to it. By now the rest of the Sickbay was visible, in an odd greyscale sense, at least. It was as if his vision had completely focused on the wheelchair.

"Wait... wait hang on..." Nathan thought, as the realization clicked within him.

"What's happening, what do you see?!" Fairfire asked, more urgently this time.

_Is this... my semblance?_ Nathan thought. He reached out with his Aura again, only this time, he tried to close it off from the rest of the world.

Almost immediately, the color returned to the world, and he recoiled in shock once again. "Wait... it's okay, it's okay I figured it out."

"Are you okay?!" Fairfire asked. "What the hell happened?"

"...I think I just found my Semblance." Nathan answered, after a moment's hesitation.

"What?" Fairfire demanded.

"Hold on a moment." Winter interjected. "Private, were you doing what I was instructing Corporal Fairfire to do?"

_Oh shit, she doesn't sound happy..._ Nathan thought. "What? No, I was um... yes ma'am, I was."

The judgemental look that she gave him could've probably drilled a hole in his head if she had wanted. "Do you always do your best to make yourself out as a reckless idiot?"

Nathan opened his mouth to protest, but Fairfire was faster. "Yes ma'am, that's a habit of his."

"Hey!" Nathan protested. "I might've gone blind for a minute there, but I found my Semblance!"

"Really?" Winter asked, now seemingly intrigued. "Well, go on Private, tell us."

_She can't pull rank on me!_ Nathan thought stubbornly, but decided that maybe he had already made enough of a fool of himself already. "I think I can focus on things!"

They stared at him for a moment before he realized how stupid he sounded.

"like, certain objects. I focused on the wheelchair over there, and it started glowing!" Nathan elaborated.

"And you couldn't see anything else?" Fairfire asked, a notable hint of concern in her voice.

"Not at first..." Nathan answered, reluctant to admit just how afraid he had been for those first few seconds. "But everything else kinda became visible in a sort of highlighted fashion, a bit like the VISR in our helmets, actually."

"Well, that's certainly enlightening, although that certainly doesn't sound like your whole Semblance, merely a component." Winter coldly stated. "How about this private, since you've already discovered at least a component of your Semblance, perhaps you could serve as a valuable test subject to help us find Corporal Fairfires?"

Although he definitely did not like the sound of the words "test subject", he immediately knew that he was going to agree. "Sure, I guess... what do you need me to do?"

"Well for starters, complete the exercises that the Doctor instructed you to." Winter commanded. "And don't follow along with any of my teachings unless I expressly instruct you too, do you understand?"

Nathan steadily stood up with some help from Fairfire. "Understood... ma'am."

_I figure I should at least give her a little effort, especially if I get to learn how to use whatever the hell my Semblance is._ Nathan thought.

"Excellent, get to it." Winter instructed, before turning to speak to Fairfire. "I'm Afraid that I have to return to Atlas for some time, but we will certainly continue when I return."

Fairfire seemed somewhat disappointed, but nodded regardless. "Do you have anything for me to practice while you're gone?"

"The only person who can find your Semblance is you, do not be afraid to experiment." Winter instructed, before giving a disapproving look at Nathan. "Oh, and please make sure he doesn't hurt himself."

Fairfire laughed, a genuine laugh that made Nathan forget any embarrassment he would have otherwise felt, it was good to hear her be happy again. "Understood ma'am, I'll make sure of it."

"Good." Winter said. "Farewell, Corporal."

As she left Nathan hobbled his way over to where Fairfire was standing. "You uh, doing alright?"

She looked to him with an expression of bewilderment. "Nathan, you blinded yourself and you're asking if I'm the one that's okay?"

He gave a shrug. "Yeah, but I got better."

_And doesn't that sound crazy saying out loud. _Nathan thought.

"I'm more worried about you, how are you going to find your Semblance?" He asked.

"Well, I imagine it's like any other kind of training..." Fairfire said, returning to her meditative sitting position. "...trial and error."


	42. Chapter 42

**Beacon Academy, Cliffside Range**

**October 13th, 1124 local time, 2552**

"Going hot," Ben reported, before taking aim with his magnum.

The latest prototype left the barrel at impressive speeds, leaving nothing but an empty casing and a deafening thunderclap in its wake. Fifty meters away, a supersonic FMJ bullet tore through the hay and canvas target, a perfect bullseye visible in the red and white markings.

"Nice shot!" Ruby said. "Darn... are they supposed to be so loud?"

"The projectile is meant to perforate the sound barrier, so yes. Remnant's do not always do this, although I suppose that ours do not either." Curie answered. He'd left her chip on the table beside his extra rounds, and she kept her hologram displayed for easier communication with Ruby.

"That's kinda annoying, it sort of hurts..." Ruby said, rubbing her ears to punctuate her point.

Ben cocked his helmet at her in confusion. "Doesn't your Aura protect you from hearing damage?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean it's not irritating." Ruby answered.

Ben thought it over for a moment, before deducing a solution to the problem. He disconnected the headset from his field telephone, and handed the improvised headphones to Ruby. Although they weren't purpose-built to protect against loud noises, they were designed to muffle the sounds of battle. "Here, these should help."

"Ah, thanks." Ruby said, taking the headset and trying it on. "Weird, I can still hear things."

"They only protect against harmful sounds, not anything lower than that, so you can still understand what people are saying around you." Ben explained. "Here, keep them on, I've still got a few more rounds that we need to go through here."

Ben steadily depleted his magazine of the ammunition and found himself satisfied with the performance of the latest batch of rounds. Ruby's suggestion had worked wonders towards fixing the accuracy issue, leaving them with a faster bullet that could still deliver the valuable effects offered by Dust. The two kinds that stood out in Ben's mind were Time Dust and Gravity Dust, two rarer forms with extremely valuable influences on the battlefield.

He'd also begun experimenting with using his minuscule amounts of Aura to influence the specific effects of the Dust. They had some sort of odd connection, allowing the user to determine specifics of what the bullet would do. Ice Dust could be configured to influence its density and how far the crystals would spread, Fire Dust had configurable temperatures which made it burn away faster, and Earth Dust could be used to create solid rock as well as dirt. Although you didn't technically need an Aura to create more specific effects, it was a hell of a lot more practical than specially engineering every single bullet for each exact purpose.

It was unusual to get used to, but with practice, it began to come to him fairly naturally. It was almost like having a mental connection to the bullet itself, which behaved almost like a computer. It would ask what Ben wanted from it, and he would command it with a set of simple instructions, which it would then perform.

Ruby proved invaluable in helping him learn how to perform the action. She had helped him figure out exactly how to create that connection between his Aura and the Dust in his bullet, and some of the things he could do with them. Apparently that same effect applied to his weapons and armor, although he was still learning about that.

"Looks a lot better than before." Ruby noted, once Ben's magazine was depleted. His target grouping was much better than before, marking an improvement in the quality of the ammunition. "Do you think this batch will work?"

"Maybe." Ben noted. "There's a lot more to a bullet than just shooting it."

"Like the additional recoil, how much filth it creates in the internal mechanisms, the quality of the materials used, and how easy they are to produce." Curie elaborated as Ben safetied his weapon.

"Hey, Ruby!" An unfamiliar woman's voice said from behind them.

Ruby certainly seemed excited to hear them, and quickly handed the headset back to Ben. He turned to see that Ruby was talking with Blake and a blond woman that he didn't recognize a few stations down the range.

"Ah, I see that Miss Xiao Long has finally decided to pay us a visit." Curie noted, raising an eyebrow in faint surprise.

_Ah, Ruby's sister._ Ben realized. Ruby had talked about her team at length, so the connection was easily made. "She doesn't look like I figured she would."

"Genetics can be a fickle thing." Curie noted as the three young Huntresses walked over towards them.

"So, you're Ben and Curie, I take it?" Yang asked, seemingly taking more interest in Curie than Ben, but extended her hand to him nonetheless. "Pleased to meet you, I'm Yang, Ruby's sister."

"Likewise ma'am." Ben said, accepting the handshake. "Ruby's spoken at length about you."

"I certainly hope she's only had good things to say." Yang said, letting out a faint chuckle as Ruby awkwardly scratched the back of her head. "I gotta say, you don't really look how I was expecting."

Ben raised an eyebrow behind his visor. "What were you expecting?"

"I dunno, something more... alien, I guess." Yang said.

"Yang, they're still humans." Blake pointed out.

"Well yeah, but he's not from Remnant, and that makes him an alien!" Yang argued. Even if Yang obviously didn't mean it as an insult, Ben still couldn't help but frown. Still, she quickly shifted her focus back towards him. "So, what've you and my sister been up to? Other than talking about me, of course."

_Nice._ Ben cynically thought. Still, it didn't seem like arrogance was the cause for Yang's statements, but Ben couldn't pinpoint what was. _Maybe she's just... flamboyant?_

"Weapons development." Ben answered. "Well, Curie and Ruby do most of the work, I just test-fire the rounds and make the propellant."

Curie looked up at him. "Don't discount your contributions, Ben. It's not like I can do what you do." Ben responded with a green ping on his status indicator, a means of quietly thanking her.

"Ruby said you were making bullets." Yang said. "But I guess that counts as weapons."

"Well a gun with no bullets isn't very useful, is it?" Ben asked rhetorically. "We've been making some decent progress, our latest batch has some promising results."

"Even if they are really loud." Ruby added.

"Oh, so that's what those explosions were." Blake said, her eyes seemingly flickering with a hint of recognition.

"Really now?" Yang suddenly seemed a lot more interested. "What were you guys firing? Some kind of shotgun?"

"I was using my sidearm." Ben answered.

Both Blake and Yang seemed somewhat surprised, but unsurprisingly, Yang spoke first. "Your weapon is a pistol?"

"Yes." Ben answered, not understanding their confusion. "Is something wrong with that?"

"Well no..." Yang answered. "It's just that... given the noise and the armor I was expecting something a little... bigger, I guess."

Ben gave a faint chuckle. "We have more than one gun Miss Xiao Long, I just brought this pistol to test with."

"Well, I figured that much." Yang said. "I just thought that since it was so loud, it wouldn't be something like a pistol."

"Don't underestimate the magnum." Ben said. "It's been in service for over a hundred and forty years, and for good reason."

"You didn't tell me that!" Ruby protested. "I thought you said you'd tell me about your weapon!"

"I did." Ben simply replied. "Telling you everything about it would be a bit time-consuming, I opted to give you a shortened version of its history."

Yang gave him a look of sympathy. "Yeah, Ruby has a bit of a... passion for weapons."

_I see, I'm not the only one she pesters._ Ben realized. "It's a good passion to have, especially in your line of work."

"Not to mention Miss Rose's contributions to our project. We would still be at the drawing board without her." Curie added.

"Aww, thanks Curie." Ruby said, a hint of embarrassment on her face from being the focus of attention.

Yang seemed incredibly proud of her sister. "So, she helped you figure out a problem you were having?"

"Indeed." Curie said. "I simply said that her expertise in this field of development has been incredibly helpful."

"Damn Ruby, good work." Yang said, before quickly and quietly adding an extra sentence. "See if they'll pay you."

"Yang, I didn't do it for money!" Ruby protested.

"I'm afraid I'm not authorized to pay her." Ben said, relieved that Ruby saw a purpose in her work besides money.

"You're welcome to keep the testing ammunition, and of course the recipe, once we have it done." Curie offered.

"Do it, take the bullets!" Yang insisted.

"Yang!" Ruby protested. "Don't be so greedy, I'm doing this to help everyone!"

"Ruby, it's alien ammo! Tell me that doesn't sound awesome!" Yang argued.

Ruby and Yang continued to bicker as Curie and Ben looked to one another with a glance of amusement. Blake's face indicated that this was a typical occurrence on their team.

_I'm amazed that someone as soft-spoken as Blake is partnered with someone as loud and energetic as Yang._ Ben thought.

"The ammunition is meant to be for everyone on Remnant." He pointed out. "You'll get your chance to use it."

"Let them discuss this themselves Ben, I believe this is what sisters do." Curie interjected. It seemed that both Ruby and Yang had ignored his words, so he opted to take Curie's advice.

"Yeah, it is." Blake confirmed as the three of them watched Ruby and Yang argue over it. "So, you're giving this stuff to everyone?"

"Indeed." Curie said. "Our intention is to reduce Remnant's reliance on Dust, while also improving the ballistic capabilities of your weapons against the Grimm."

"...I see." Blake said, although Ben got the impression that she probably had expected a different answer. "So, we'll all just be able to use this stuff in our weapons?"

"That's the idea." Ben confirmed. "I don't know what kind of weapon you use, but as long as it's a gun..."

Blake had already proceeded to draw a sword that apparently had some kind of sidearm built into the hilt. Although Ben had seen the sheath of her sword, he hadn't thought that her pistol would be part of the same weapon as the sword.

"...or, you know, a sword with a gun in it, I guess that works too..." Ben said, wondering if placing his palm on his helmet would be considered impolite. "Where and how do you people come up with the ideas for these things?"

"Experience in the field." Blake answered, with a surprising degree of confidence. "I built this to give me a degree of mobility, and something for both long and close range."

"Mobility?" Ben asked, not understanding how her weapon would play into her mobility unless it was unusually large.

"She can use the ribbon to swing on things, like a grappling hook." Yang pointed out, seemingly having resolved her quarry with Ruby. "It's pretty neat actually, but I figure you guys have jetpacks or something for that."

_Well, she's not wrong..._ Ben thought, although hearing that the purpose behind the fabric ribbon on Blake's weapon had already reinvigorated the faint headache that he'd had since he arrived at Beacon. _This planet is just begging for a doctrinal study._

"Ben, I have just had an idea." Curie said. "I believe that Yang and Blake could help us test this latest batch as a way of testing its performance with Remnant-made weapons."

"Well, I can do that too..." Ruby awkwardly said.

"Crescent Rose is a single-action rifle, I believe that Miss... I mean, Blake's weapon is an autoloading pistol." Curie said. "Testing the effects of the pressure on her weapon would be extremely useful if she would like to help us. The same goes for Yang's weapon."

"Say no more, I'm in!" Yang said.

"Sure, why not?" Blake said, seemingly surprisingly disinterested.

"Splendid!" Curie said. "We shall proceed immediately. Ben, would you mind breaking down some of your rounds?"

Ben gave a faint sigh at the monotony of the task presented. "I'll get to it. Ruby, would you care to help me here?"

"Not at all!" Ruby enthusiastically said. "I mean uh... sure!"

**Dominion, War Room**

**October 13th, 1244 local time, 2552**

Notes and pictures haphazardly covered the holotable, along with perhaps a few too many mugs of coffee. Around it, Richard and Jorge brainstormed their next mission, now dubbed Operation Hindenburg by Lieutenant Thomas. Although Richard noted the irony of naming an operation that aimed to steal airships after one of the most legendary dirigible accidents in human history, he didn't mind it too much.

_It seems like Lieutenant Thomas knows a bit more about history than I figured..._ Richard thought.

"Sir, a new report from Atlas." Jorge said, breaking the silence.

He proceeded to hand a datapad to Richard, which he took and read over the title of the report, immediately recognizing that it was going to be a difficult read. It was an in-depth list of all equipment that had been lost after the defections in the Atlesian Military, and it was depressingly long. Thankfully, it was very detailed, and it would give the UNSC an idea of what to expect from the defenses of the Central Distribution Center.

_Point Hindenburg, the name's a goddamn mouthful._ Richard thought, quickly jotting down the new bit of jargon before he continued to browse through the long list of Atlesian weapons.

It seemed that the Atlesian Army had fared far better than the airfleet had in terms of defections. Nothing as drastic as a trio of capital warships had been stolen, but that didn't mean nothing valuable was missing. Military trucks, a hovercraft APC, some kind of mechanized combat walker, at least a full platoon of Atlesian Knight drones, and most worryingly, and a series of high-caliber anti-aircraft cannons, as well as a worrying amount of small arms and munitions.

"Oh for the love of..." Richard said, both irritated and wearied by the discovery.

"Yeah, reminds me of the Innies." Jorge said. "Missing assets, mass defections, and a lot of bad news for everyone involved."

"Well... I suppose this means we've gotta think a bit more carefully." Richard said, pinching the bridge of his nose as he placed the datapad back on the holotable.

Anti-aircraft cannons meant that any air support the Dominion deployed would need to operate outside of the effective range of those weapons, limiting their options significantly. Their primary aerial platforms, like the Hornets and Sparrowhawks, were VTOL and lacked any sort of higher speeds, not to mention the fact that their autocannons had a limited range, meaning that the risk for their deployment was way too high to be justifiable in any way.

_And without air support, the Infantry will be at too much risk to justify deploying them._ Richard thought. "Damn, I'd gotten used to having air supremacy..."

"There's no such thing Sir, at least, that's what the Admirals like to say." Jorge said. "Those AA guns mean we have to rethink this whole Op from the ground up."

Richard pondered the assets he had at his disposal, keeping the Marines supported was his top priority. "Do you think we can afford to outfit the Sabres for close air support?"

"Too much firepower, and not enough accuracy. We'd kill half of the freighters before we ever touched them." Jorge answered, immediately ruling out the fighters as an option. "What about the Vultures, Sir? They're a mean piece of work, and they've got the longer-range cannons, not to mention their missiles. If we play this carefully, we should be able to keep the enemy on their back foot, and the precious cargo intact."

Richard thought it over, but quickly realized that Jorge was completely right. Even if the Vultures were targeted, they were so stubborn and durable that their armor could take a few hits. The UNSC didn't employ flying tanks, but the Vulture came close. "Good thinking. Have Bradford inform the CAG, we'll need Spellmaster Squadron for this mission."

"Aye Sir." Jorge said, quickly relaying a message to the XO. "Do we have a plan for insertion?"

"The Pelicans aren't durable enough to risk for anything other than reserves." Richard immediately said.

SOEIV drop pods were the obvious answer, but the Marines weren't trained with them, so it wasn't an option. Warthogs and Lynxes were another option, but a direct assault against the enemy defenses was still risky. Supporting them with Scorpions and maybe even Grizzlies would help alleviate those concerns, however, and some mortars loaded with smoke rounds could offer some cover to the advancing forces.

_Still, it would be better if we could attack them from the inside somehow, get around their defenses, an infantry infiltration of sorts. _Richard thought. "I think I might have something in mind, but I'll need to speak with General Ironwood first. For now, we'll plan around a distant landing, then an assault with Armor and Warthogs, covered by smoke rounds from artillery."

"Aye Sir." Jorge said as he made note of the decision. "There was another thing that I was hoping to run past you, although I'll admit, it's going to be... controversial."

Richard closed his eyes and took a single deep breath. "Go ahead."

"Specialist Schnee warned me that the SDC likely has at least a full squad of Specialists at their disposal, we need a way to take them down quickly." Jorge said. "My suggestion is to outfit Onyx Team with plasma weaponry."

In truth, Richard had already been thinking about the same thing. It was nearly a certainty that the Marines would encounter the fearsome enemy Specialists, and he was looking for a solution even before the operation had begun planning. Plasma weapons were an obvious solution, but they had two major faults that they would need to face if the assault force was going to use them.

The major strategic limitation they faced was their inability to reload or replace the weapons that they had. Most Covenant weapons, particularly anything that used either plasma or the exploding pink needles, had eluded UNSC scientists' efforts to understand them. As a result, what weapons they had were all that they were going to get.

_I bet that damn Elite knows how to reload a plasma rifle, too bad he's such a cocky son of a bitch._ Richard grumpily thought.

The second issue was one of morality, which admittedly, was something that Richard had been perfectly willing to ignore in the past. Curie had theorized that plasma would fuse to a person's Aura as it would to someone's clothes or skin, only you couldn't cut the Aura off of somebody to separate the burning plasma from their bodies.

The ugly reality was that a target's Aura would either be depleted and they would be slowly burned away, or the plasma would cool and the target would be left bloodied and bruised, but alive. Every time he thought about it, he could only think about Ben's face, and how every day for years on end he would be faced with the true capabilities of plasma weapons, and what they did to a human being, even one lucky enough to survive.

Regardless of his personal feelings, he gave a faint sigh, and a nod. "Lieutenant, whatever you think is going to keep our men alive, you have my authorization to do. Coordinate with Lieutenant Clark, and select what equipment you think will work."

Jorge gave a stern nod, and although he was wearing his helmet, Richard could tell by Jorge's body language that he didn't like it either. "Understood Sir. Permission to inspect the armory?"

"Granted." Richard dryly said, reaching for his mug of coffee as the Spartan left the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts.

_One more battle, and then we can stop killing other humans. It's all monsters and Demons from here on out._ Richard thought in a vain effort to encourage himself, but it was a lost cause. Steeling himself once again, he reached for his earpiece. "Lieutenant Chen, patch me through to General Ironwood."

**Beacon Academy, Cliffside Range**

**October 13th, 1711 local time, 2552**

"Alright, give it a shot." Ben instructed. Beside him, Ruby stood and watched as Yang prepared to take her shot, while Curie eagerly awaited the moment of truth.

Yang pulled back her arm and fired. The latest, and likely final prototype of Remnant's brand new propellant burned away in the blink of an eye, creating a large pressure wave which sent Yang's slug towards the target at impressive speeds. The solid projectile carved its way effortlessly through the thin target at the end of the range, before careening over the cliff and into the forest.

"Whoo!" Yang loudly exclaimed, shaking her arm to punctuate her point. "It kicks like a horse, but damn, it works!"

_Well, you did just fire a small-caliber shotgun off of your forearm..._ Ben thought somewhat cynically, but he was too pleased with their success to particularly care.

"You may wish to modify your weapon's recoil-dampening system to adhere to modern specifications." Curie suggested. "I'm authorized to send you some suggestions based on older-models of UNSC armaments, if you would like."

"Sure! It's been a long time since I took Ember Celica to the shop anyway..." Yang said, glancing at her weapons as if already pondering potential improvements.

"Oh!" Ruby immediately piped up. "Can I-"

"I already have." Curie interrupted her with an answer.

"Yay!" Ruby replied, throwing her hands into the air with enthusiasm.

Ben looked down the range and admired Yang's surprisingly accurate shot. She'd paved her way through the center of the target with seemingly little difficulty. While it wasn't a particularly long-range shot, the esoteric nature of her weapon likely added some extra challenge. Why she'd elected to design a firearm based around fistfighting was beyond him.

_Forget bullets, we should be making bayonets, hand those out on a regional scale and we'll wipe the Grimm out in no time._ Ben thought. _Although I'm not sure that the Huntsmen would use them right… They'd probably tape them together and make a damn boomerang._

"I think that this mixture is exactly what we're looking for." Curie said. "Although I'll admit, I was hoping to keep more of Remnant's weaponry compatible than we ended up with. It's a good thing we had Blake to help us, we might not have figured that out..."

"It's a change in powder, some adjustments to the weapons were always going to be needed." Ben said, noting how that mistake had cost many soldiers their lives, as they were handed weapons with ammo not well suited to them. Curie and Ruby had taken extensive care to avoid those fatal mistakes.

"Don't worry about it Curie, we can handle a few modifications." Ruby said, patting her Sniper-Scythe to punctuate her point.

_I still can't believe that thing can fold down so far..._ Ben thought. He could only speculate how many different iterations the weapon must've gone through, it must've been forged from childhood.

"What're you going to call this stuff?" Yang asked as she collected her spent casing.

Ben, Curie and Ruby all looked to her, prompting her to look back at them with a smirk. "Did I uh... say something wrong?"

"No." Curie answered. "I suppose I just hadn't thought of that."

Yang fiddled with her hair as she thought about what to say. "Well, you've gotta give it a name! What are you calling it now?"

"Experimental Propellant Mixture Number Three-Zero-Two." Curie said, awkwardly shifting her feet as she spoke.

"Ok uh, maybe not that." Yang said, pointing at her to punctuate her point. "What about you Ben, do you have any ideas?"

He thought it over for a moment, but quickly realized it was a lost cause, naming things was not his forte. Still, he did have something to contribute to the effort. "I don't, but whatever you pick, it should probably be something more familiar to Remnant's culture."

"What do you mean?" Ruby asked, seemingly just as confused as Yang.

"The people on Remnant are unusually artistic in how you name things, take your weapons for example." Ben answered, gesturing towards the two Huntresses. "If we gave this a traditional military designation, it would likely be viewed as something more unconventional than it actually is."

_I think._ Ben silently added. He was a soldier, not a salesman, this was far from his region of expertise.

"I agree, something a bit more marketable would probably prove to be a good idea." Curie said.

Yang shook her head slightly. "You really think people aren't going to use this stuff just because we give it a bad name?"

"With all due respect, you are the one who asked for my input." Ben pointed out, somewhat perturbed by her sass. "I think that people will use it anyway, but it will be an easier transition if we can convince your people that this stuff was made with them in mind."

"So... maybe name it after some kind of Dust?" Ruby suggested, scratching the back of her head.

"This is not Dust, and labeling it as such would be both disingenuous and counterproductive." Curie said, although she did her best to speak softly. "Perhaps we should look more into your planet's culture for some suggestions."

The debate continued on for a few more minutes, as the four of them bounced between different ideas and theories as to what would inspire the right reactions from the users of the new propellant. Ruby finally produced a solid idea, an acronym, to give both a descriptive and punctual name. Yang and Curie each contributed dozens of words that they could disassemble for the name, ranging from more serious suggestions like different colors, to more unconventional suggestions like the word "violence".

_Actually, that one would probably work, at least when it comes to conveying the purpose of this stuff..._ Ben thought, before realizing that Yang had probably suggested it as a joke. In the end, however, it was the other co-inventor of the new propellant who proposed the final candidate.

"What about ARM?" Curie suggested. "Standing for "Artificial Remnant Mixture"."

"Ooh, I like that one." Yang said, flexing her muscles as if to punctuate her point. "What do you think of it, Ruby?"

"...It works." Ruby said, although she seemed less than thrilled. "I don't exactly have any better suggestions, so... why not?"

"Chin up, Ruby." Ben said, noting her slightly disheartened nature. "You're not always going to come up with a perfect solution to a problem. And the appearance of any weapon is always secondary to the function."

His words seemed to click with her. "I guess that's true. Besides, it's not like I'm going to top "Crescent Rose" anytime soon."

"Indeed you aren't little sis', but don't let that stop you from trying." Yang said, pulling her into a one-arm hug. Ruby did her best to fight it off, much to Ben and Curie's amusement.

"Perfect name or not, you just helped give everyone on Remnant a better fighting chance against the Grimm, that's a hell of an accomplishment." Ben said, noting Ruby's shoulders hike up with pride at his words. "I'll make sure to mention you in my report."

"I uh, thanks Ben." Ruby replied, seemingly a bit stunned by his words. "So uh, what are you guys gonna do now?"

"Collect our belongings and return to the Dominion." Curie answered. "Our mission is complete, and we shall see to the next."

Ruby's face fell slightly, but she did a very good job of concealing her disappointment. "Well... you both stay safe, alright?"

"I wouldn't dream of anything else, Miss Rose." Curie replied, before Ben reached down and collected her chip, slotting it back into his Neural Interface. He gathered up the field telephone and headset before Yang raised another question.

"Hey, Ben... what about all of this stuff?" She asked, gesturing towards a small container holding some of the prototype mixtures.

"I'll make sure to-" Ben began, but found himself interrupted by Curie.

"They were assembled out of Beacon Academy's materials, therefore they belong to you, I suppose." Curie answered. "Do be careful with them, you're at great risk of hurting yourself otherwise."

Yang gave a worrying cackle as she scooped up as much of the propellant as she could, before leaving with her ill-gotten gains.

"You had authorization to give her that propellant, right?" Ben privately asked her.

"Of course." Curie discretely answered, satisfying his concerns. "She is a Huntress, Ben. I'm sure that she and Ruby will be responsible with it."

_I certainly hope so..._ Ben thought.

"I'll uh... make sure she doesn't hurt herself... or anyone else." Ruby said, although Ben could see that she wasn't as worried as she let on. "See you guys around, I guess."

"Yes, until next time." Ben replied, although he was well aware that they probably wouldn't meet again.

It didn't take long for Fireball to arrive to pick up Ben and Curie with her Pelican, and with one final wave to the red-caped huntress in training, they set off back towards the Dominion. Ben could see that she was still looking out at the Pelican from the landing pad even as the rear hatch shut.

"So Ben, what did you think?" Curie asked as Ben took a seat in the Pelican's troop compartment.

"Of what?" he asked.

"Beacon Academy, team RWBY, working with another military body." Curie answered, her voice rich with curiosity.

He leaned his head back and genuinely pondered it for a moment. Beacon had been a very valuable experience for Ben, certainly more so than he'd initially given it credit for. Although he'd certainly never enlist as a student or a Huntsman, he had still managed to learn quite a lot about Remnant and its people from the quirky military college.

"I suppose it wasn't that bad... although the defenses are a bit lackluster." Ben answered, letting out a soft chuckle at Curie's frustrated groan.

"You know what I meant!" Curie insisted. "I am fully capable of running combat simulations myself, I wanted to know what you thought about the people!"

He decided to humor her, knowing fully well that she'd had to convince him to maintain any enthusiasm for the mission from the start. "It's different, not just Beacon, but Remnant as a whole. The more I think about it, the more I realize just how much we have to learn about this place, and about our new enemies and allies."

"So, would you say that you feel your perception of Beacon has changed in any way?" Curie asked.

"I suppose, just, not how I expected." Ben answered. "It's a piss-poor boot camp, but they're not trying to be a military force... Beacon's something else, something stranger. I don't know what to make of them."

"Well, that is certainly a more positive outlook on Beacon than you had at the start of this mission." Curie noted, a hint of satisfaction in her voice.

"I guess so." Ben said, finally admitting defeat. Then again, he lost more or less every debate that he had with Curie, so it wasn't a particularly humiliating loss.

Ben couldn't help but feel a bit of relief as the Pelican was gripped by the mechanical arms of the Dominion's starboard hangar. As he took a step out of the back of the Pelican and onto the flight deck, he took a moment to take in the familiar sights.

"Welcome back Sierra!" One of the Technicians happily commented from atop one of the Sabres, Ben replied with a simple thumbs-up.

_It's good to be back._ Ben thought as he started walking again. "Where to Curie?"

"Starboard Armory, Lieutenant Jorge wants to see us as soon as possible." Curie answered.

"Then let's not keep him waiting." Ben said.


	43. Chapter 43

**Nicholas Class Dust Freighter "Demetrius", Cockpit**

**October 14th, 1125 local time, 2552**

The older Atlesian Airship flew surprisingly handily, considering its rather ungainly appearance. It was readily apparent to all of the Marines aboard that this was a dependable vessel from a more industrial time in Remnant's history. To Fireball, it was a reassuring symbol that even if the captured freighter had been assembled by the lowest bidder, it had at least been built for function over style.

_Which raises the question, why did that have to change?_ Fireball grumpily thought. As much as she wanted to appreciate the vessels of their new allies, Atlas's modern airships were in dire need of an upgrade to their arsenal.

Squeezing a full platoon of Marines into the cargo hold had proven to be a challenge, but it was a key part of the strategy that Lieutenant Clark and Jorge had put together. Their objective would be to sabotage the enemy defenses and cause as much chaos as possible in order to soften the enemy up for the main force. With UNSC forces running amok in their lines, the SDC wouldn't be able to properly respond.

Of course, the sophistication of groundside tactics was not Fireball's field of expertise. She and her co-pilot did their best to keep the bird flying straight, while Lieutenant Clark stood behind them, grabbing onto the handlebars built into the cabin roof for extra stability.

_I do not pity those poor bastards in the cargo bay… _Fireball thought, running her thumb across the old leather-coated joystick as the aging ship lurched again. _I'd rather be flying a Pelican…_

An indicator on the dashboard began to flash red, as a faint beep began to echo throughout the cockpit. She thought back to her crash-course instructions regarding how to pilot the captured airship and recognized that was the communications console.

"Aw hell, looks like you're up Lieutenant." Fireball said.

Her co-pilot handed Lieutenant Clark the microphone. The cord connecting the bulky microphone to the console stretched over her shoulder as Clark pulled his mask down to speak clearly.

"Still think you can do an Atlas accent?" Her co-pilot cheekily asked.

"I suppose we'll find out." He replied in his normally proper English accent, before clearing his throat and switching to his best impression of the traditional Atlesian dialect. "Either way, let's get this over with."

_Goddamn, he did that well._ Fireball thought. _Maybe this plan will work after all..._

Clark pressed the button to accept the transmission, and opened up with the line that he'd recited over and over with the Atlesians. "This is Freighter Demetrius, go ahead Control."

Fireball gave him a thumbs-up as a gravelly voice came through the speaker. "Demetrius, this is CDC Control, identify yourself and your cargo immediately."

Clark held his thumb on the transmit button as he stared out the front of the window, the confidence that the officer spoke with was astonishing. "The name's Ferdinand, Sir, and I'm carrying a load of Dust we managed to secure from the Jester Mines before they went down. We're uh, kinda running out of fuel here, and we'd appreciate it if you could clear a place for us to land, we'll be happy to tell you our story once we're on the ground."

There was a pause as the man on the other end processed what Clark said. Out of the front viewport, point Hindenburg came into view. It was completely covered in parked airships, there were probably more freighters in storage than the Dominion had people to fly them.

_Good thing we don't have to worry about that, just kill the bastards holding them, and let the officers do the rest. _Fireball thought. She resisted her gut instinct to line up for a strafing run, and instead continued to fly steadily onwards.

"Demetrius, this is Control. Your video feed is coming back dark, mind explaining that one for us?" The voice asked, with a notable hint of suspicion.

"Shit." Fireball's co-pilot silently mouthed to her. She stuck one finger in the air in response to shush him, which he thankfully obeyed. Just in case, she took in the surrounding landscape, looking for where she could go if she needed to avoid anti-aircraft fire. A multitude of locations stood out to her, but she doubted the Demetrius could make the dive in one piece.

_I can't believe Atlas didn't even put a shock absorber on this thing…_ Fireball thought. The lack of a modern G-force compensator was one of Demetrius's biggest faults.

Thankfully, Clark recovered quickly. "Yeah... those broke years ago. Corporate never got us replacements, said that as long as we could still fly we didn't need em'."

There was an agonizingly long pause as the silence from the radio began to make Fireball slightly nervous. Would the Mercenaries catch on? Were they lining up a shot with their AA guns while Fireball stupidly flew into them? If she still had weapons on her aircraft, she would've gotten ready to use them.

_What the hell convinced these people not to arm their logistics transports in a world covered with demons?_ Fireball grumpily thought, lamenting the lack of a trigger on her joystick.

"Control copies all Demetrius. You are cleared to touchdown on landing pad three, lights are blue, welcome home." The voice said.

Clark let out a genuine sigh of relief, which probably helped add to the deception that he was putting on. "It's good to be back Sir, Demetrius Out."

He placed the microphone back in the console and turned to Fireball. "I think we're clear, touch us down where they instructed. As soon as you open the ramp, close off the cockpit. Stay inconspicuous, we'll do the rest."

"Heh, that was some impressive stuff Lieutenant, it's like you speak idiot fluently." Fireball teasingly replied.

Clark chuckled as he turned to leave the cockpit. "It takes one to know one Fireball."

Both pilots gave a hearty chuckle and a wide grin as he left.

**Demetrius, Cargo Bay**

Scuff marks and stains marked the floor of the Demetrius's cargo bay, likely to be joined by blood and spent casings by the end of the day. Dim light from small old lights illuminated the First Platoon of Zulu Company as they ran through their final equipment checks. The shakes and jolts of the aircraft reminded them that it was never designed for passenger comfort, but the Marines were well accustomed to the stresses of atmospheric entry, making the tremors of the ship nothing more than a minor annoyance. Standing before the large ramp that opened to the outside world, Ben and the remaining handful of operational members from Onyx Team prepared to take point.

The four ODSTs, Peggy, Kerry, Kowalski, and Nathan, were barely enough to constitute a fireteam, let alone a squad. Were it not for Ben and Jorge, the whole group would barely have counted as an organizational unit at all. But Onyx Team was packing some special hardware specifically selected to alleviate their low numbers, and offer a meaningful degree of fire support for Lieutenant Clark and his Marines.

Each ODST carried a jackal shield gauntlet, which, in addition to their new Auras, offered a level of defense that your average Helljumper could never have counted on. Plasma rifles and repeaters took the place of their normal rifles, while Nathan specifically carried one of the precious four beam rifles found in the Dominion's contraband hideaway. Curie had specifically pointed out their unique potential to drain a person's Aura and kill them in only a pair of shots, a far cry from the normally exorbitant amount of bullets it took to bring down an Aura-armed combatant.

_Aura rarely deflects projectiles due to it following the shape of the user, and humans are hardly ballistically ideal. For this reason, an Aura to most frequently absorb them entirely and dispel the energy accordingly. _Her voice rang out in Ben's head. _For this reason, the particle beam rifles of the Covenant snipers are particularly devastating, as their inherent ability to subvert deflection means that almost every shot will deliver its full kinetic potential._

Sadly it was only theoretical, they couldn't exactly test it out on somebody, and so would have to hope the real world lined up with the scientific analysis Curie had done. She was probably right, but physics weren't exactly normal on Remnant. Any number of things could go wrong.

But if what Nathan was holding was a precious weapon, what Ben was holding was downright irreplaceable. Out of the entire arsenal of Covenant weapons that they had with them, only a single Type-52 plasma cannon had managed to find its way into their hands. It was comparable in many ways to Jorge's heavy machine gun, but the projectiles it fired would likely prove especially devastating against unarmored targets. Even still, the plasma cannon would inevitably run dry, so he also had his assault rifle as a backup.

It felt odd holding such a blatantly alien weapon, almost unsettling, even. Knowing that the very same weapon that he now held in his hands had likely burned its way through many of his brothers-in-arms did not do his mental state any favors. Still, he gripped it tightly in his gauntlets, being entrusted with such a valuable asset was an honor that he would not squander.

"Is everything alright Ben?" Curie asked, her familiar voice offering a degree of reassurance to his troubled thoughts.

"It feels wrong, using Covenant weapons against our own like this..." Ben admitted.

If they had been disturbed by what a MAC gun could do to a capital ship, he couldn't imagine how they would react to something like a capital-grade plasma torpedo. It was one thing to punch a hole through a warship, it was quite another to melt it away into a faint vapor in a matter of minutes. Millions of UNSC servicemen had met that grizzly end, and it seemed that the humans on Remnant would not be spared the same fate.

"A weapon is a tool, just like any other. No matter how it operates, the purpose remains the same, to kill the enemy." Curie said. "You should not trouble yourself with the morality of war, our enemies have made a mockery of the concept of human rights, they are no better than the Covenant."

_Just think of them like they're Covies… _Ben thought. It was easier to kill an enemy that you hated, which was something that he had learned even before he had become a Spartan. He focused on the mental images of the terrible things he had seen and resolved himself not to hesitate when it came to pulling the trigger.

Ben gave a firm nod, having her as his voice of reason was something he could always depend on. "Thanks Curie."

"It is not a problem." She said, although she seemed somewhat distracted. Although with their landing now only moments away, there were dozens of things that she could be doing.

"Is everything good on your end, Sergeant?" Jorge asked. Even as he spoke, he ran his own inspections on Etilka's ammunition belt.

"Yes Sir." Ben replied.

"Good." The elder Spartan said, taking his stance and raising his weapon. "Curie, as soon as we make contact, you have free reign to attack whatever is left of their network."

"Do not worry monsieur, by the time this battle is done, they will have no battle-net left to speak of." Curie said. Even though she didn't have her hologram deployed, Ben could imagine the sinister glare behind her normally innocent eyes.

_It's always the quiet ones…_ He thought, adjusting his stance and reading his weapon as everyone felt the airship shift and lurch as it came in for a landing. Although the plasma cannon wasn't made to be held by human hands, it was still more ergonomic than some other Covenant designs.

"All callsigns, this is Fireball. First Platoon and Onyx Team are touching down in twenty seconds, standby for the all-clear." Fireball's voice rang out over the radio. "Give em' hell Boys."

"Good luck to you too ma'am." Another voice on the radio replied, which the indicator on Ben's HUD identified as belonging to Spellmaster One, the leader of the squadron of Vulture gunships that would cover the advance team.

Unlike with modern airframes, the freighter apparently had very poor shock absorbers for landing, if it had any at all. As such, many of the Marines were thrown off balance by the sudden stop, but everyone rapidly recovered as they turned their attention towards the door. The tightly packed soldiers all kept dead silent as the critical moment approached.

Moments later, the door was raised, and the ramp to the ground lowered. Mercifully, no immediate hostile force was there to greet them, although it would likely be only a short time before their ruse was discovered. Outside of the airship, their view was obstructed by a similar-looking parked airship, effectively reducing the Marine's immediate view to only the small alleyways that were formed by the parked vessels.

The actual layout of the logistical base had been studied extensively by the entire assault force, although from the ground, it was hard to line up what they knew with what they saw. Row upon row of parked airships and drab grey warehouses created an environment that proved exceptionally difficult to navigate, even as Onyx Team and the Marines slowly advanced and more of their surroundings became visible.

_It's like a damn maze…_ Ben thought.

As Onyx Team crept down the path laid before them, a single enemy technician walked around the corner only to be greeted by the raised rifles of two Spartans and half a platoon of Marines. Rather than try to run or warn his friends, the unarmed man elected to raise his hands into the air in silent surrender. Just as a pair of Marines moved to detain him however, the UNSC's good fortune came to an end.

A four-man patrol of armed hostiles followed him around the corner and quickly recognized what was going on. None of them ever got to fire their rifles, as being under the coordinated fire of nearly twenty trained people with modern weapons took them to the ground with ruthless efficiency. Ben didn't even bother wasting his plasma cannon's valuable reserve, as the Marines alone threw enough plasma downrange that the enemy soldiers were reduced to nothing more than flaming piles of charcoal and vapor.

_At least it was quick…_ Ben thought. Even if the enemy they faced were nothing more than war criminals and scoundrels, it was still a brutal display.

"Squad Leads, disperse and make for your objectives, let's get this done!" Clark called out over the radio as the gunfire ceased. The alarms began to blare as the base came to alert.

All four teams had a task that needed to be accomplished before the main force arrived. The First Squad of Marines would defend the captured freighter and secure any additional airships they could, while the Second Squad supported them. Third squad would neutralize enemy strongpoints with reserve anti-aircraft guns, while Fourth squad and Onyx Team would join forces to target the primary battery of the cannons.

Curie silently placed a navpoint on the HUD of every Marine, ODST, and Spartan on the field, directing them to their objectives. Ben and Jorge led the way as the gunfire began to erupt all around them. A dozen Marines and ODSTs followed suit, checking any nook and cranny that the two Spartans failed to clear. It seemed that the enemy was slow to mobilize to the unexpected strike, but that changed with every passing second.

"All units, make your way to the eastern landing pads!" A gruff voice said over the base intercom. "Hostile forces have entered the base, kill on sight!"

"He knows we can hear him, right?" Nathan asked, gesturing towards one of the large wooden poles that held up the intercom speakers with the tip of his rifle.

"I do not believe that stealth was his primary concern." Curie answered.

The squad got out of the narrow passageways that ran between the parked airships and reached one of the larger dirt roads that ran through the compound. However, in between them and their nav-point was a large barricade in the road, formed out of parked trucks, large crates, and sandbags.

From behind the makeshift fortification, several enemy soldiers opened fire on the UNSC forces, who returned fire as they ducked back into cover. A beam from a pulse laser managed to scrape Ben's shields, but the damage was minimal.

_They might not be powerful, but they're still fast._ Ben realized. Under combined fire, his shields would likely be quickly overwhelmed.

"What's the plan Lieutenant?" Ben asked, looking to Jorge for instructions.

With only a moment's thought, Jorge had already put together a solution. "Leave the heavy weapon and come with me, we'll clear this with plasma grenades."

"Yes Sir." Ben gave a firm nod as he and Jorge left their weapons in the care of the Marines, before making their way to the edge of the airship that they hid behind. From this position, they would be ready to make the long throw to the enemy position.

"Prime and throw, on my mark… mark!" Jorge shouted. The two Spartans both tossed their glowing blue spheres through the air, both of which landed on the enemy's barricade and fused themselves in place, before detonating moments later.

The explosion was magnificent, blue fire and a massive shockwave erupted from the enemy fortification. Bolts of plasma shot out from the blast like lightning, scarring the nearby warehouse. Although Ben could hear faint screaming, a secondary explosion, probably from one of the parked trucks, quickly silenced any survivors.

"God damn…" Nathan murmured as he watched the fires begin to die down, leaving only a charred stain in the snow, complete with a large amount of scrap metal.

_Ok, maybe these things aren't so bad after all._ Ben thought as he retrieved his weapon.

"We're clear, let's go!" Jorge instructed.

The Spartans led the way forwards, pushing through the ruins of the enemy fighting position. By now, the sounds of the skirmishing around them had blossomed into a constant, deafening cacophony of gunfire, roaring explosions, and panicked screaming.

The concrete buildings and parked airships they passed barely even muffled the noise, with the odd smoke trail or flame pillar reaching into the sky making themselves visible. The base intercom continued to sporadically spout off orders, and it was readily apparent that the SDC had been caught completely off-guard.

_I guess fighting nothing but Grimm would make you complacent, lazy even._ Ben thought. _I suppose they also fought the Faunus, but killing civilians doesn't make you strong or prepare your forces for a real battle._

With most of the enemy forces out of position, Onyx was able to continue relatively unopposed for some time, before finding themselves obstructed by a large warehouse. The front door to the warehouse apparently had some kind of electronic lock, which Ben approached.

"Curie, can you get this door open?" He asked.

"Certainly, just a moment." She answered.

There was an awkward pause for around ten seconds as the squad stacked up around the unopening door. Bizarrely, the door remained locked and closed, despite Curie having said that she would open it.

"Uh… Curie?" Clark asked. "We uh, haven't got all day here."

"My apologies." Her irritated voice came over the radio. "This lock is… different, I may need more-"

"No need." Jorge interrupted. He gently placed his weapon on the ground before using his sheer brute strength to tear the massive reinforced door off of it's hinges, before throwing it aside.

"Fuck, why didn't we just start off by doing that?" Nathan asked, admiring the now bent and twisted door as the Marines passed into the warehouse.

Jorge picked up Etilka as he responded. "Well Private, you're more than welcome to get the next one."

Nathan gave an awkward chuckle as the Spartans entered the warehouse. "I'll uh… pass, thanks."

The inside of the warehouse was filled to the brim with large crates and shipping containers of spare parts, Dust, large metal plates, and effectively anything the SDC apparently built things with. However, it seemed that the UNSC was not alone, as a squad of enemy soldiers had apparently been moving through the building from the other end.

The two opposing forces unexpectedly met one another in a loud and spectacular manner. The first enemy soldier that came into view was blown to pieces by Jorge, while the follow up fell victim to Ben's plasma cannon. His motion tracker showed at least a dozen more hostile contacts in the warehouse with them, meaning that they were equal in number to the Marines.

There was little strategy in the ensuing slugfest, both sides advanced and traded shots as they dispersed their formation. Jorge and Ben used their heavy weapons to suppress the enemy and stop their advance, which proved extremely successful. At one point, Nathan used his beam rifle to drill a superheated hole directly through an enemy's Aura, helmet, and head, then back out the other end, all with a single shot, which inspired a great deal of fear in the remaining enemies, who attempted to retreat.

"They're running, should we pursue?" Ben asked.

"Negative, the objective takes priority!" Clark answered.

With the warehouse cleared, Onyx Team and the Marines were able to exit out of the other side in much the same way they had entered, revealing another long dirt road, which Ben recognized as being located near the main AA position.

"We're close, keep moving!" Jorge instructed. "The sooner we get our birds overhead, the sooner these bastards will give up the fight!"

But it seemed like the SDC had at least one more trick up its sleeve, as Curie shouted in a panicked transmission over TEAMCOM. "Enemy mech incoming, take cover!"

Her rapid interruption proved just a second too late, as a truly goliath combat walker charged straight through the wall of another warehouse, emerging in the middle of the UNSC formation with a deafening crash. Concrete and snow flew into the air as the sheer force of the mech's arrival sent every single Marine, ODST, and Spartan flying away in different directions. Ben and Jorge managed to not get thrown too far, but the Marines were scattered and their organization gone.

With Onyx Team and the Marines scattered, the mech turned to face the obvious threat of the two Spartans. Although the UNSC employed cargo walkers and even used hasty armament conversion kits to create their own combat mechs, the Atlesian giant that stood before them was a totally different beast. Furnished in black and white armor plating, it's skeletal structure was impressively bulky, and it's weapon systems were extensive. Unfortunately, Ben did not have time to admire the surprisingly advanced robotics as it brought it's weapons to bear.

"Go for the legs!" Jorge ordered.

Heavy Machine gun and plasma cannon alike picked away at the armor around the walker's hips as it brought a pair of arm-mounted autocannons to bear. Ben's plasma cannon proved invaluable, as the scoring of dozens of hits rapidly reduced the mech's mobility and dispersed a multitude of EMPs throughout the systems of the mech.

Both Spartans were forced to discard their heavy weapons and break into a harsh sprint to either flank as the heavy weapons opened fire, immediately becoming a harsh drain of the energy shields of both supersoldiers. Autocannons were the bane of any infantry force, even the advanced defenses the Mjolnir offered could not stand against the weapons for long.

"The Paladin's blind-spot is underneath it!" Curie advised over TEAMCOM. Faced with little other alternative, the two Spartans charged the mech head-on, seemingly taking the pilot off guard. Jorge took the momentary opportunity presented to roll a smoke grenade under the mech, which quickly bloomed into a blinding cloud that covered the walker.

As the two Spartans reached the relative safety of the mech's underside, the Marines regained their footing and unleashed a barrage of armor-piercing bullets and plasma at the Mech. Sparks from ricocheting rounds and the smoke of smoldering plasma only added further to the chaos of the battle. The distinctive sound of a particle beam rifle echoed throughout the air, and a purple beam of ionized hydrogen severed one of the mech's shoulder-mounted rocket launchers before it could even fire a shot.

The Paladin retaliated to the Marines bombardment with a suppressive barrage of laser weaponry, fire from it's autocannons, and a salvo of rockets directed towards the Marines. As the munitions came crashing down on Marine and ODST alike, Lieutenant Clark exited cover and for a brief moment, it almost appeared as if he was about to be blown to pieces. The missiles screamed towards him, only for a wall of transparent light to stop them in their tracks.

As the smoke cleared, the Marines watched in awe as Lieutenant Clark lowered his hands, causing the transparent barrier to disappear. Even Ben couldn't help but be impressed by the display, he had known that Lieutenant Clark's Semblance was something related to defense, but he hadn't seen it in action before.

_Magical Marines… you really can't make this up._ Ben thought as he watched through the growing smokescreen.

"Cease fire, stay behind my barriers!" Clark shouted out to his men, who obeyed his Command. "Let the Spartans take it down!"

By now, the smoke from Jorge's grenade and the plasma scoring across the Paladin's armor was starting to obstruct the vision of just about everyone in the fight. Even the thermal optics of the Spartans and ODSTs proved useless due to the degree of heat that radiated off of the mech and it's smoking wounds.

The Paladin itself must not have been equipped with infrared vision, and whoever was operating the vehicle elected to correct the obstruction by walking back out of the smoke, but thanks to the damage that it had sustained, it was now slow and easy to board. Ben and Jorge both grabbed onto the Paladin's legs, and with the help of their magnetic boots and the many fresh holes in the walker's armor, began to climb.

"Mind the joints!" Curie advised, breaking the tense silence over TEAMCOM. The mechanical whirring of the complex mechanisms that allowed the mech to walk were extremely dangerous, especially as neither Spartan had yet to recharge their shields.

Both Spartans gave a silent green status signal of acknowledgement as they carefully dodged around the moving hips and torso of the mech, allowing them to climb aboard it's main compartment. Ben briefly pondered whether lodging something into the joint would be able to stop the Paladin from walking altogether, but he had nothing that he was willing to spare to test the theory. As he climbed a step further up the mech's body, he found what must've been some kind of camera or optical sensor and took the extra moment to rip it out of its socket before continuing.

He and Jorge continued until they stood atop the Paladin, their magnetic boots stopping them from falling off, even as it jolted around erratically in a vain effort to shake them off. Ben readied his assault rifle while Jorge reached down and pulled the armored hatch off of its mounting, exposing the surprisingly unarmored pilot within. Although it took nearly the whole magazine to bring the man down, Ben killed the pilot without further incident.

"All units, the Paladin's operator is down!" Jorge exclaimed over TEAMCOM as he pulled the corpse from the cabin. "You don't suppose you can operate this, can you Curie?"

"I can certainly try!" Curie confirmed, a notably hint of giddiness in her voice.

Jorge gestured towards the open access hatch. "See to it, I'll go check on the Marines."

Ben took the operator's seat and examined the control set. It was surprisingly well laid-out for a mech, opting for a full panoramic view composed of multiple exterior optical sensors, although most of them were either broken or distorted. "Hmm, it doesn't have a remote access toolset..."

"Will that be a problem?" Ben asked, noticing that the consoles meant to control the mech had suffered just about as much trauma as the armor. "This thing seems to be pretty spent…"

"I can handle this." Curie insisted. "Stay put Ben, I am going to need you here while I do this."

For an awkward minute, Ben sat in the control chair and waited for something to happen, but nothing did. Outside of the mech, he could hear Jorge and Clark rallying up the squad.

"Curie, any luck?" Jorge asked over the radio, apparently becoming just as impatient as Ben was.

"I'm afraid not." Curie reluctantly admitted. "The EMP from our plasma weaponry has rendered many of the electronics disabled, this Paladin is no longer operational."

"Eh, I suppose it was too good to be true." Ben said.

Once he ensured that Curie had severed all connections to the mech, he climbed back outside and leapt down to the rest of the squad. Jorge returned his plasma cannon to him as Clark and the Marines admired the trashed Paladin.

"Hot damn, why don't we get these?" Nathan asked.

"Practically any anti-tank weapon would destroy this thing completely." Ben answered as he ran a quick inspection of his weapon, it was thankfully undamaged. "We didn't even have any, and we still disabled it."

"Eh… still cool." Nathan replied with a faint shrug.

"Eyes up men, we still have to take out those guns so the Vultures can back us up!" Clark shouted, getting everyone back onto the task at hand. "Move it out, double time!"

"Second Platoon is ready to deploy as soon as we clear the way for them." Curie added.

It wasn't much of a run at all until the array of anti-aircraft guns came into view, as they stood in a fortified position, defended by a litany of enemy soldiers. The Warehouses and airships around them prevented Onyx Team from executing a flanking strike, which left them with only one angle of attack, straight forward.

_This is going to be difficult._ Ben recognized. "Sir, we're going to need to think this through."

"Agreed." Clark said, seemingly posed with the same realization that Ben had come to. "I can use my semblance to cover us for a short time, and your shield can cover us in a pinch, but I still don't think we'd be able to close the distance."

"I have a suggestion." Curie interjected. "If you can destroy the Radar array that the guns are using for guidance, their range will be lowered sufficiently enough that the Vultures could engage them at no risk to themselves."

"Where is the Radar array?" Jorge asked, only for another navpoint to appear on the squad's HUDs behind them, around two-hundred meters away.

"It is marked, I would advise that we hurry, the other units are encountering heavy resistance." Curie said.

The squad hastily doubled back, heading down an intersection in the dirt roads as the sounds of battle escalated around them. A handful of SDC soldiers stood in their way, but they were eliminated without much incident. Even with the ease of their minor victory, Ben couldn't help but feel an uncomfortable feeling of foreboding.

_Something's going to try to stop us._ He thought. Even with the whole squad on alert, they didn't spot any further enemy forces on their way to the Radar station. It was certainly a primitive system, but admittedly a fairly robust-looking one. _Maybe Atlas has some decent tech after all…_

Just as Ben lowered his hands over the console to let Curie tear the systems of the equipment apart, a voice shouted at them from behind him. "Halt!"

Appropriately, Jorge and the Marines responded by opening fire at what Ben could only assume was a hostile. He focused on the mission at hand, and let Curie work away at erasing everything that made the Radar station function. Perhaps it was just the knowledge that there was a battle going on behind him, but it seemed to take considerably longer than it should have.

"Done!" Curie announced, just as the Radar station stopped moving. Just for good measure, Ben put his armored fist through the control console, before turning to face the enemy.

The sight that Ben turned to face was something he could scarcely believe, and one that immediately inspired a great deal of concern. The Marines were facing off against at least four different Specialists, who were rapidly overwhelming the entire UNSC force with a barrage of nonsensical strikes.

Two of the enemy specialists had engaged Jorge in a hand-to-hand fight with a pair of daggers and a billhook. But it seemed that even while outnumbered and without weaponry, the Spartan had them both on their back foot. The other two Specialists engaged the Marines, one of whom was armed with a set of grenades, while the other Specialist fired at the Marines with some kind of unique missile launcher, solidifying themselves as Ben's first target. Clark protected his men with his Semblance, but he found it difficult to cover both approaches at once.

He deployed his drop shield to cover the outmatched Marines, which offered them a moment's respite as he continued onwards through the blue barrier, plasma cannon in hand. He caught the Specialist with the launcher in the middle of their reload, and unleashed a merciless barrage of plasma at them, scoring several direct hits before they performed an impossible leap backwards to avoid further strikes. Ben could see that much of the plasma was now stuck to the enemy Specialist, continuing to burn away at their Aura even as they retreated.

Ben turned his attention to the grenadier, who paused their merciless bombardment on Clark's shield in order to engage him. Ben turned to fire another salvo of plasma, only to realize that his weapon was still at a dangerously high temperature. The Specialist took the opportunity to throw a Dust grenade that he knew he would be unable to avoid, so instead he braced for the inevitable impact.

Surprisingly, it landed with nothing more than a dull thud and a soft gust of air that didn't even trigger his shields. At first, he wondered if there had been some sort of malfunction in the Specialists Grenade, but his curiosity was shortly answered as the world flipped upside down and he became immediately disoriented. At first, he thought it might be some kind of chemical weapon, but his shields and atmospheric seal had yet to be breached.

_Gravity Dust._ Ben realized, as he began to slowly glide away from Remnant's surface. His perspective was horribly disoriented, but he could still see that he was slowly falling upwards. It seemed that whatever he'd been hit with, it was enough to not only overpower Remnant's gravity, but to reverse his own completely. His weapons and equipment seemed to be affected as well, as well as bits of snow and some rocks that he had been standing near.

"Hang on Ben, I'll try to get us down!" Curie shouted. Ben pinged his status light green, he would focus on the fight.

As the Grenadier moved to throw another grenade at him, Ben intervened by lining up his plasma cannon and unleashing a series of powerful shots. But as soon as he finished firing, Ben recognized his mistake. By firing the weapon towards Remnant's surface even while he was floating haphazardly away from it, he had accelerated his rate of ascension rapidly, and was now far further above the battlefield than would be practical.

The worst thing however, was that he hadn't been firing parallel to his center of mass, which left him in an uncontrollable horizontal spin. His mind rushed as he struggled to think of a solution to his rapidly worsening predicament.

"Ben, shoot over your shoulder!" Curie suggested. With no real alternative in sight, Ben did as Curie said, and fired a series of shots to counteract his thrust, leaving him floating effectively in place and no longer spinning.

With a far more stable view of the battlefield, Ben could see that the grenadier and the Specialist with the missile launcher were once again focusing their efforts against the Marines, who were still protected from harm by Clark using his shield.

Meanwhile, Jorge had managed to capture the billhook operated by one of the Specialists he was fighting, and was using it to try to fight off multiple transparent copies of the other Specialist. Ben cleared his head and forced himself not to think about it, Jorge could handle the Specialists, but the Marines would need his help.

WIth only a moment to think of a proper strategy, and his gravitational situation seemingly unchanging, he was left with only a single, less than optimal idea.

_When faced with the impossible, think impossibly._ The voice of Franklin Mendez spoke once more in Ben's mind as he slung his plasma cannon to his back.

"Curie, adjust the fuse of this grenade, leave it at one second." Ben instructed as he withdrew a high-explosive grenade from his belt.

"...Done, what is your plan?" Curie asked, a notable hint of worry in her voice.

"Nothing intelligent..." Ben answered, as he ignited the grenade and threw it into the air behind him.

The grenade exploded almost immediately, draining a considerable amount of his shields, but that was not the most significant consequence of his action. The shockwave of the grenade thrust him back down to Remnant like a giant armored cannonball, and inadvertently, directly into the face of the grenadier Specialist who had caused him this trouble in the first place.

As he smashed into the enemy soldier, he grabbed their right arm with his own, and began ruthlessly punching away at the Specialist's face, causing his Aura to crackle with the impacts. Even as Ben's legs and plasma cannon floated carelessly upwards, he was able to keep himself in relatively the same position with his firm grip on his enemies limb, as the Specialist swore and spat, struggling to fight him off. The Marines around them stopped firing and watched in awe as the levitating Spartan fought to keep his grip and beat his opponent's face in.

"Hold him steady Ben!" Nathan shouted as he raised his beam rifle, but he was interrupted by the arrival of a squad of enemy reinforcements. "Aw hell, sorry Ben!"

"I can take him." Ben replied over TEAMCOM, only for gravity to return to normal, and for both him and the enemy Specialist to collapse onto the ground unceremoniously.

Both Ben and the grenadier scrambled away from one another as they returned to their feet and reached for their weapons. Ben was a split second faster, and unleashed a firestorm of plasma into the Specialist that drained his Aura considerably. Even as he screamed and melted away, he dropped a single live grenade onto the grounds.

His shields finally popped out of existence as the blast sent red-hot shards of metal towards him at impressive speeds, and his Mjolnir undersuit was torn in several parts, exposing bloody flesh beneath. Regardless of his fresh wounds, Ben turned to face the second Specialist armed with the missile launcher, and saw that they had just prepared a perfect shot with their bulky weapon aimed directly at him. With no shields, Ben knew that he would not be able to react fast enough to avoid the strike. Curie started to shout something, but she would never be able to finish speaking before Ben was already dead.

Moments before the Specialist could fire however, a series of forty millimeter shells exploded at their feet. The Specialist's already largely-depleted Aura could not withstand the intense barrage, and was blown apart as Ben's savior came into view.

An AC-220 Vulture flew low over the battlefield as it's four massive autocannons spoke once again, tearing the SDC Mercenaries that were fighting with the Marines apart. Curie commented something softly in French at the display of carnage, while Ben watched as Jorge finished off the last Specialist with his captured billhook. In the blink of an eye, the battle had been completely stomped out by the intervention of the aircraft.

"Regroup on the Lieutenant!" Jorge ordered, although the scattered UNSC forces had already begun to do so.

In the distance above, Ben spotted the other three Vultures of Spellmaster Squadron tearing away at their targets on the ground. He could only imagine what thoughts of terror ran throughout the hired soldiers of the Schnee Dust Company as the flying tanks tore their elaborate defenses apart with ease.

"I almost forgot how scary those things are…" Ben commented, watching with admiration as the ruthlessly pounded away at unseen targets.

"They are certainly impressive." Curie said, her voice giving away her own sense of awe and wonder. "Come on, we should link up with the others."

Ben silently retrieved his plasma cannon and jogged over to the rest of Onyx Team, where some of the Marines were treating one another's wounds with Biofoam. It seemed however, like most of them had only suffered superficial wounds. The Marines had managed to take a single prisoner, who watched as the Vultures worked with a stare of dread and terror.

"God, I thought the Specialists were a bit more colorful than the average mook…" Clark commented as he picked bits of shrapnel out of the gaps in his armor. "Those guys were just pricks."

"They're not Huntsmen, just soldiers with some unusual abilities." Jorge pointed out, gesturing pointedly with his stolen weapon.

"I suppose that explains the dreary-looking armor…" Nathan added. "At least Mags and Winter have a style to their outfits, these guys just look like high-budget Innies."

"They are high budget Innies…" Ben pointed out.

Ben treated his own minor wounds as he took a look at Jorge's captured weapon. It seemed almost unusually normal for a weapon from Remnant, which made Ben wonder if it had some hidden feature that he wasn't seeing.

_I bet there's a grenade launcher in the grip, or a flamethrower built into the blade, so you can light things on fire while you chop away at them._ He sardonically though as he inserted the stinging biofoam into his cuts and gashes.

"You got that on your own Sergeant?" Jorge asked as he examined Ben's wounds.

"Yeah, it's just skin, I'm good." Ben answered. "What's next?"

"Pull security, I'll get orders from up high." Jorge instructed.

"Yes Sir." Ben said.

Although as the only sounds in the distance were the steady thumping of the Vulture's autocannons, he was reasonably confident that they had won. Still, he did not let his guard down until the final holdout of SDC troops surrendered.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 14th, 1441 local time, 2552**

Word from General Ironwood reached the Dominion shortly after the news from the Central Distribution Center, reporting a resounding success from Winter's assault team. The footage that had been captured from the CCTV systems of the Schnee Manor was truly satisfying to watch, especially when Winter and the top-notch special forces group, the "Ace-Ops", breached Jacques Schnee's office with a pair of complementary flashbangs, gifted from the Dominion's armory.

_I could genuinely watch this all day. Or anything where we bag all the bad guys, and then we get to have a clear victory._ Richard thought as he finally closed the video, he'd rewatched it enough that it was starting to lose its entertainment value.

Operation Hindenburg had been a textbook success, marred only by a handful of wounds and a single Marine casualty. The Freighters, as well as a considerable amount of Dust and other raw materials, had been safely secured, thus providing the UNSC with the tools needed to alleviate the damage to Remnant's economy while the Dust Industry rebuilt itself. It would be years before things were truly back to normal for the people of Atlas, but the war was over, and the future looked bright. All things considered, Richard was happy with the results.

Still, even as the bridge officers around him celebrated in a professional and reserved demeanor, he couldn't help but feel a shred of doubt as he read over the actual reports.

_This should've been avoided._ Richard thought. He was convinced now, that there was some better way he could have handled the situation. His mind unhelpfully suggested a million things that he could've done differently, but it was too late for any of that to be useful. _Hindsight isn't useful, but maybe I can do something to prevent something like this from happening again._

He reached for his earpiece and sent a quick message to Lieutenant Thomas, instructing him to head to the War Room for a brief meeting. Richard handed the Bridge over to Bradford, who was left with the task of securing the CDC and the assets that the UNSC had captured.

_Ironwood's going to want all of that back, once he's done cleaning house in Atlas._ The nagging voice in the back of his mind pointed out, but Richard shoved it away. He was happy with what he and his crew had accomplished, and he was going to enjoy it while it lasted.

Onyx Team in particular had distinguished themselves, taking on a Paladin and four rogue Specialists, and emerging without a single death. Although most of them had sustained minor wounds, including Ben, none of them had been knocked out of action. It seemed that working in conjunction with Lieutenant Clark's Marines, as well as the introduction of Aura to the Leathernecks and Helljumpers, had managed to create a force that they could reliably count on to deal with difficult situations.

_Jorge also seems to have taken to a leadership position very well._ Richard thought, equally pleased with the results that the older Spartan had achieved. _It's good to see that the Spartans are still at the top of the food chain down there._

He'd been thinking a lot about Ben recently, and how the green Spartan had handled his introduction to live combat. Being one of his instructors for several years had left him unashamedly attached to both Ben and Curie, making him curious about just how effective all of the simulations and training scenarios had been. Having him be wounded for the first time in a live combat environment left him more worried than he had expected to be, which made him wonder if he'd become too attached to the boy.

_That will not influence any of my decisions or his missions. I can care about my crew, but I still need to be prepared to lose them._ Richard stubbornly thought as he arrived at the bulkhead to the war room. He shook his head clear, he needed to keep his focus on the big picture, especially for what he had planned.

Lieutenant Thomas already stood by the holotable, with a scowl on his face and a half-empty mug of coffee in his hand. "Not taking part in the celebrations, Commander? Haven't you heard, the war's over!"

"The war's over when the bastards responsible are rotting in a cell, not before." Richard replied as he shut the bulkhead behind him. "I need to know what the latest news from the Councils are, Menagerie and Vacuo too."

"You're really going to make me get out of my chair for that? I could've just sent you a report..." Thomas said, somewhat jokingly.

Richard shot him a glare to let him know that he was not in the mood for jokes. Thomas awkwardly cleared his throat and straightened up his posture, rapidly changing his mood. "Right, well, our plan to save Remnant's economy is going quite well. Everyone but Vacuo has volunteered to pitch in, and frankly, I don't expect much from them, considering their Council is little more than a formality, and the Headmaster for the Huntsmen Academy is a paranoid nutcase. We do have enough in our own cash reserves to cover the rest of the budget, but that would leave us dangerously low."

"Do it, we've muscled enough out of the Kingdoms already." Richard reluctantly said, earning a sharp nod from Thomas as he jotted down Richard's answer. "What about our prisoners, have we reached an acceptable compromise with Atlas?"

Atlas had, of course, wanted the prisoners that the UNSC had taken to be tried in Atlesian Courts, which was a complete non-starter in Richard's eyes. He would not leave war criminals to be tried by their sympathetic peers, nor would he give them a pedestal from which to spout their xenophobic beliefs. Richard had been hoping that Remnant had some sort of international court for war criminals, but a global peace for the last eighty years had apparently negated the need for such a system.

_And I'm not just going to flush them all out the airlock, not after we've finally convinced the people in Atlas that maybe we don't want them all dead._ Richard thought, well aware that half of the admiralty back home would've done that exact thing.

"We have, thanks to Vale." Thomas simply answered. "Vacuo and Menagerie just don't have enough courthouses to handle such a large influx of cases, and Mistral is more crime-ridden than Gao, so we'll just have them tried in Vale's civil courts on counts of treason and terrorism, as apparently Remnant lacks proper legislation against war crimes. General Ironwood and the Council of Vale have already signed off on it, but it'll be at least another week before we can get the proceedings underway."

"Good." Richard said, happy that at least one of the larger Kingdoms was willing to help out. It seemed like Vale's Council, as well as their citizens, recognized the strategic value of having the UNSC on their side, and they'd been far friendlier than Atlas as a result. Still, there was one part of Thomas's statement that didn't sit well with him. "Hold on a moment, Remnant doesn't have any definition for a war crime?"

"Well, kind of, it's complicated." Thomas answered, a notable hint of confusion even on his face. "Apparently they do, but they lack any actual written laws regarding what actually constitutes a war crime. There are a handful of regulations regarding the usage of certain kinds of Dust in large amounts around civilians, but it's practically a footnote. Most, if not all, their laws focus around the use of Huntsmen-level combatants, and how they interact with civilian populations."

Richard let out a hefty sigh, he genuinely didn't give a damn if Thomas heard him. His earlier smile had been replaced with a frustrated scowl. _Every damn time we fix something, something else on this planet turns out to be broken…_

"Well, maybe we should have a proper peace conference then." Richard said. "Obviously the Schnee Dust Company is getting nothing more than an unconditional surrender, but it would be a good opportunity to raise some critical issues."

"So, a meeting with the councils then, and presumably Menagerie?" Thomas asked as he looked up from his datapad with a raised eyebrow.

"Especially Menagerie." Richard said. "Chief Belladonna's been telling me about how they're practically a second rate nation, that's going to change."

Thomas frowned. "Are you certain? That seems like a problem for another conference, if you don't mind my saying so."

Richard took a deep breath, apparently Thomas didn't understand what he intended. "You're familiar with the treaty of Vytal, right?"

"I kind of have to be, given my job description." Thomas answered, with a hint of sass, which Richard reluctantly tolerated.

_If he wasn't so useful, I'd have him cleaning toilets._ Richard thought as he continued. "The Faunus were lifted from their position as slaves during that treaty, although it took a second war for them to get true civil rights."

Thomas nodded. "Yeah, and we know how well that's been turning out…"

"Clearly, Remnant hasn't learned its lesson." Richard said. "The Schnee Dust Company was doing this crap for years before we came here, and I do not want to think about how many bodies they've got buried in the snow down there."

Thomas slowly nodded. "So we introduce some more robust laws of war, and reaffirm human rights planetwide? That's uh, going to cause some issues."

"We'll just have to live with the consequences." Richard said, well aware that some more traditional hardliners on Remnant would probably drag their heels. "We'll give up some civil advancements as well, better radios, satellites, basic rocketry, the kind of thing that they're gonna have difficulty killing us with, while also making this into more of a treaty and less of a shakedown."

"Oooh, that's clever." Thomas said, making another note on his datapad. "Then we can get them using an actual goddamn waypoint, instead of whatever the hell they have now."

"Exactly, we don't want the planet to go radio silent because some intern dropped their coffee in a server room." Richard said. "We're also going to insist that Menagerie gets the same status as a proper Kingdom, and I'll talk to Ghira about getting a council installed."

Thomas raised an eyebrow. "Is Chieftain Belladonna going to be entirely pleased with being removed from his seat of power? I'm fully aware that he's a generally charitable man, but..."

Richard took a deep breath, it would be a difficult conversation to have, without a doubt. "He wants what's best for his people, he'll see the value in a representative system, no matter how primitive it may be."

"...If you say so, Commander." Thomas said. "So, we summon all of the Councils out to the middle of nowhere, and we'll bribe them into not murdering each other anymore with all of our shiny goodies?"

Richard scowled. "That's… not how I would have worded it."

"No, but I feel like it's a pretty accurate summary." Thomas said. "Well, unless you had anything else to add, I'll try to assemble a plan with this."

"That was all, see to it." Richard answered.


	44. Chapter 44

**Dominion, Barracks**

**October 14th, 1821 local time, 2552**

The Dominion's Barracks might have been cramped, but it had an odd sort of homely feel, at least, in Fairfire's opinion. Maybe it was the great big armchairs that had replaced the usual titanium seats or the sound of jolly Marines playing different card games around the tables, but it was a nice place to work on her Aura.

Working with an Aura was nothing like she had expected. It was like a base, animalistic instinct, not unlike hunger, pain, thirst, lust, or even just good old fashioned competition. Unlike those other instincts, an Aura was commendable, and it typically obeyed.

Specialist Schnee had explained that every person's Aura worked slightly differently, which Fairfire was only just now starting to understand. Nathan had described using his Aura like "talking to his lawyer," whereas Fairfire's Aura felt nothing like that. It was like goading a half-tamed tiger into doing what you wanted it to, but it got easier with practice.

_I do like the idea that Nathan had a tiny lawyer in his mind, just organizing all of his scatterbrained thoughts._ Fairfire thought, somewhat amused at the thought.

Unfortunately, there was one thing that she couldn't do, and that was to use her Semblance. No matter how hard she focused, she couldn't replicate the effect of what she had felt down in Atlas. Her Semblance was there, she could feel it, but actually trying to get it to do something was like trying to wrestle a catfish, and it never failed to evade her.

_Maybe I am just psychotic…_ She thought, her frustration-fueled focus giving way to sadness. Although she was slowly coming to grips with her actions, she still flinched whenever she got a dirty look from a crewman or a Marine. _I'm not going to let this shit be the end of me. I didn't join the Helljumpers just to mope and bitch._

"Goddamnit…" She muttered as she scrunched her eyes shut, doing her best to focus, but her frustration was starting to get in her way.

"You're overdoing it." Nathan said from across the room. "Take a break! You've got time."

_Easy for you to say, you've already got your Semblance._ Fairfire bit back her bitter retort, it would've been unhelpful and unwarranted. Nathan hadn't been obligated to keep her company in while she was in Sickbay, but he had anyway, and even after he had been discharged, he had stuck around. Even now that her leg was healed, he'd opted to spend his off-time with her in the Barracks, working on his own Semblance as she tried to find hers.

"I'm thinking, Nathan. I think I can handle it." She jokingly said.

Nathan nodded, although she could tell he was still a bit nervous. "Alright, but seriously, don't burn yourself out. If we're really poking around with our souls here… well, let's try not to break them."

"Alright, you make a fair point." Fairfire reluctantly relented as she got back on her feet. She had been sitting cross-legged on the floor for a change of pace, but she didn't see any point in avoiding her armchair anymore. "What time is it?"

"Dinner is in a few minutes, so we've still got time to kill." Nathan answered her unspoken question. "So, not making progress?"

"What gave it away?" Fairfire quietly grumbled. "Was it the magical rainbows I can blow out of my face now?"

Nathan raised an eyebrow mockingly. "Shit, that's magic? I kinda just thought you could do that…"

She shot him a very unamused look, causing him to straighten up in his chair on instinct, even if she wasn't his superior anymore.

"Uh… well, you can't expect miracles, Liz. This stuff is new to all of us, not just you." Nathan awkwardly added. "It's gonna take some time."

"I dunno, you seem to have figured your Semblance out pretty quick." Fairfire replied, being careful not to sound bitter in the process. Even if she was jealous, she wasn't going to let him know that. "Maybe mine's just… broken, or some shit."

"I mean, I wouldn't say figured out…" Nathan said. "I can highlight things, and make everything around me look really dark… that's about it, to be honest."

Fairfire was still trying to wrap her head around how exactly his Semblance worked, which, to be fair, not even he knew. "You said it's kinda like VISR, right?"

"Yeah." Nathan answered, with a hint of disappointment. "Lamest fucking superpower ever."

Fairfire shrugged. "I don't know, it sounds pretty useful. Have you tried looking through walls, or somewhere far away?"

"Actually yeah, I did try those, both of them didn't work." Nathan answered, now with a definite hint of disappointment. "There's gotta be more to it, I doubt my Semblance is just a way to highlight things."

_Huh, maybe he isn't so far ahead of me after all…_ Fairfire realized, noticing how he sounded just as frustrated as she felt. "Look on the bright side Nathan, you'll never lose anything ever again."

He chuckled. "Yeah, I mean, I don't hate it…"

He paused, scratching his head as he tried to think of the right words.

"Any day now, Nathan." Fairfire teasingly said.

"Right, right, I know." Nathan said. "I guess like, I was kinda expecting something more like what Mags can do."

Fairfire immediately understood exactly what he meant. Mags had demonstrated her Semblance to some of the crew as part of their Aura training, and had promptly become the most prominent topic amongst the ship's scuttlebutt. Apparently, she could control saltwater with mental thought alone, which, when compared to the rest of the Huntress's equipment, made an odd sort of sense.

_It figures that the navy-girl is a freaking waterbender._ Fairfire thought. _I can't wait for all the flyboys to learn how to spit fireballs..._

"I think she's more of the exception, rather than the rule." Fairfire offered her own explanation.

"I certainly hope so, bullets are good and all, but goddamn, she's scary." Nathan somewhat sheepishly said. "It makes me wonder, does someone out there have a Semblance that can reach us, even up in the Dominion?"

"Well, I know one thing for sure." Fairfire said, after only a moment of thinking about it. "That sounds a lot like the "unhealthy thinking" that you said I was doing earlier."

Nathan remained unusually silent as she continued to speak. "Come on, let's go get some food, then we can get back to work on our Semblances."

Nathan took a deep breath and nodded as he stood up. "Yeah, yeah you're right, let's go."

_It seems like even the most stalwart Marine needs a hand every now and then._ Fairfire thought.

**Dominion, Starboard Armory**

**October 14th, 2019 local time, 2552**

Cataloguing and safely storing Covenant weaponry might have seemed like an odd assignment for a Spartan, as such a menial task might not have demanded the expertise that Jorge and Ben offered. But even twenty-six years into the war, the UNSC still barely understood the inner mechanisms of the weapons. That, coupled with the faint radiation that they would occasionally give off if handled improperly, meant that a pair of experts clad in Mjolnir were probably the best people on the Dominion to handle the job.

Although she would have certainly been very helpful, Curie was needed for the effort to piece Atlas's banking system back together, after she had so thoroughly ravaged it during the war.

_Not a war._ Ben bitterly reminded himself. _The UNSC conflict._

Although he and the rest of the Dominion's crew were hardly thrilled with the name that Remnant's media had selected, Commander Richard had approved it. He'd reasoned that Remnant's citizens were going to remember the first contact with extraterrestrial life more than they would remember the SDC and their heinous actions. He'd also pointed out that being known for liberating hundreds of slaves wasn't a bad thing.

Richard had also promised to make sure that the crimes of the SDC would be remembered, and justice administered accordingly, and that brighter days were ahead for the Dominion and her crew. But his words couldn't change the uncertain state of morale amongst the crew, and especially the Marines. Most of them still barely understood what they were fighting against, or even who they were fighting for. Although with the SDC out of the fight and Atlas now an ally, the future looked bright, especially if the only enemy they were up against was the Grimm.

_Fighting something mindless is going to be a refreshing change of pace._ Ben thought. He had already attended one funeral service on Remnant, and he was not eager to attend another. _Maybe a little downtime is exactly what we need to learn about this place._

"Ben, pass me the drill." Jorge instructed.

Ben passed the tool over the table, before forcing himself to focus on his work. It was still somewhat odd to Ben that Jorge seemed to prefer having his helmet off while he worked, but it wasn't exactly a major factor in how he viewed the older Spartan. As he worked on the plasma rifle in his hands, ensuring that it was charged, undamaged, and rigged with an improvised safety, a realization planted itself in his mind.

"I just don't understand it." Ben said as he extended the cooling fins of a plasma rifle, looking for any notable faults or damage. "Why would someone go through the effort of capturing so much Covenant equipment, only to store it so poorly?"

"Smugglers don't think these things through, in my experience." Jorge offered an explanation, although Ben knew that he didn't have the definitive answer. "I'm reminded of a mission that I took part in back on New Harmony. We were after some Insurrectionists who had managed to get their hands on a few old nukes."

Ben raised his head to indicate he was listening. Jorge paused momentarily, seemingly doing his best to remember the occasion.

"We… had just finished up with clearing out any resistance." Jorge continued, with a hint of hesitation. "My squad leader ordered me to go inspect the warheads, and ensure they were ready for transit off-world."

The elder Spartan let out a long exhale, as if mentally preparing himself.

"The morons had armed the warheads, removed every safety, and linked them up to a goddamn tripwire. I still don't know how they did it but… well, that would've been really nasty." He said.

"They must have been on some kind of narcotic to justify a plan like that." Ben noted.

"They were." Jorge confirmed. "I could have killed my whole team and a city of twenty-five thousand people with the wrong step. I might be crazy, but that night, what I almost did… it bothers me more than what I did with the Long Night of Solace."

Ben cocked his helmet at the older Spartan, he was acting a bit more… emotional, then he had expected. "You survived, both times."

"Yeah, but sometimes I wonder if I changed somewhere along the way." Jorge said, his voice almost somber in nature.

Ben remained silent, only shifting his helmet slightly in surprise. He placed the plasma rifle back down, it was apparent that Jorge needed to get something off of his chest. "What's on your mind, Sir?"

"A lot of things." Jorge responded, his expression giving off the impression that he was troubled. "I've been thinking about Reach, about Noble Team, and my team from before them, Gold Team."

"With the Spartan IIs?" Ben asked, to which Jorge gave a slow nod in response.

"Yeah… I never really figured out if they're still alive, or if they've been dead for a long time." Jorge elaborated. After a long pause of absent-minded work, Jorge spoke up again. "Ben… do you think that humanity is going to lose, back on Earth?"

_He's doubting himself, all of us._ Ben recognized. He didn't even ponder the strategic significance of Jorge's question, the answer was ultimately unimportant. "No, I think they'll be fine. It's not really our job to worry about that sort of thing."

Jorge seemed somewhat disappointed by his answer. "Ben, just because it's not your job, doesn't mean that thinking about it is wrong."

Ben paused his own thinking, and wondered just what had inspired this line of thinking in Jorge. It was obvious that the Fall of Reach had been the catalyst, but there must've been some sort of pre-existing doubt in Jorge's mind that grew from it.

_Either way, maybe he just needs to be reminded about what we're fighting for._ Ben thought.

"That might be correct… but it's out of our power. You and I, alone, we can't beat the Covenant, we can't even fight them right now." Ben admitted.

Jorge raised an eyebrow. "You don't think we'll find a way home, do you?"

"That doesn't matter right now." Ben dismissed his question outright. Although it may have been somewhat disrespectful, Jorge clearly needed to be brought back on track. "We're needed here, on Remnant. Just think about the people that we got out of those mines, without us, they'd be in a different hole in the ground."

Jorge was silent for a moment, but eventually, he gave a nod. "Yeah, you're right. I guess we are doing some good out here."

There was a mutual silence as the two Spartans sat and thought to themselves. Ben was deeply worried about what Jorge was saying. Just because he was an older Spartan did not mean he was immune to the stresses of war.

"You know, a great man once told me that it can help to think about the bigger picture, but at the end of the day, it's best to focus on what's immediately important to you and your team." Ben thought, remembering a quote from Instructor Mendez.

_He was a smart bastard, but he was still a bastard._ Ben thought. All of the Spartans, the IIs and IIIs alike, had an odd sort of respect for Mendez. He had been brutal, but he had respected them, and had contributed greatly to their training. Contributions that had saved them time and time again.

Unexpectedly, Jorge stiffened up somewhat as Ben finished his statement. "Where did you hear that?"

Ben was a little confused by his alert response, but saw no reason not to answer truthfully. "One of my instructors told us that during training, Chief Petty Officer Mendez."

Jorge was silent for a moment, before unexpectedly beginning to chuckle. "You don't say? Mendez trained your company?"

"He did." Ben confirmed. "He trained the Alpha and Beta Companies too."

Jorge's earlier sadness was totally gone, replaced by a wide grin at the news of an old friend still being alive. "I had no idea! How is he, he must be ancient by now!"

"Oh yeah, he was pushing sixty when we shipped out, but he was still signed on for Delta Company." Ben said, happy to deliver some good news for a change, before he realized that there was another piece of good news he might be able to deliver. "By the way, you know Kurt-051, right?"

Jorge suddenly seemed a little less enthusiastic. "I uh… yeah. I think he died a little while ago…"

"He's not, he was our commanding officer." Ben happily reported. "I'm not sure if his record was altered, but I can tell you for certain that he's not dead."

Jorge's earlier grin returned as he shook his head. "Damn, you Mark IIIs are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Ben smiled behind his helmet. "We've got our strengths."

**Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 0823 Local Time, 2552**

Around the Holotable on the bridge, Richard, Bradford, and Thomas all listened to Curie as she completed her report of Operation Hindenburg. Although they were all already familiar with the events of the battle, a retrospective analysis of the operation was useful not just for the strategic observations, but also for historical documentation. Plus, it helped bring everyone up to speed on things that they might have otherwise missed.

"-So, in conclusion, Lieutenant Clark's Semblance proved to be absolutely instrumental. Pursuing the Semblances of more of our soldiers should be one of our top priorities." Curie said, finishing her lengthy, if well-assembled report.

"Thank you, Curie." Richard said, somewhat relieved that it was over. "Copy that report over to General Ironwood, and also Lieutenant Clark, if he hasn't seen it already."

"I shall." Curie said, bowing her holographic head before disappearing.

Thomas gave a deep exhale once she was completely gone. "I don't know how we managed with her on the ground. I know Curie's not an administrative model, but having an A.I around makes things so much easier."

"There's something else that we have to reinvent." Bradford pointed out. "Right now, Remnant is currently running off of humans for most of its administrative work, and we're uh, not too great at that."

"Oh yes, we wouldn't want humans doing paperwork, now would we?" Thomas bitterly and rhetorically asked.

_Alright, I'll let him complain about that one, he's certainly earned the right to._ Richard thought. Thomas's outbursts were unprofessional and uncalled for, but with the workload on his shoulders, Richard was willing to tolerate a little bemoaning.

"Hold on, can we not map a brain with the equipment we have in Sickbay?" Richard asked. He quickly realized however, that neither an ONI agent or a Naval Officer would know the answer to that question. "Curie, what's your assessment?"

"I believe that theoretically speaking, we could, although we do not have an A.I matrix compiler." Curie answered, although she didn't display her hologram, her voice still emerged from the speakers.

_Ah, yes, one of those._ Richard cynically thought, realizing just how ignorant he really was when it came to and what they needed to function.

"So… how would we do it?" Bradford asked, seemingly encountering the same knowledge limitations that Richard had.

"We would be forced to use our neuro-surgery unit to perform the process. Although it has nowhere near the processing capability that we would need to perform something as complex as the creation of an A.I." Curie answered. "Even still, it would require a large amount of modification, not to mention a donor brain with which to create-"

"I uh, don't mean to be rude…" Thomas awkwardly interrupted. "But can we put all the long-term planning on the backburner for a moment? I still have my report to make, and I have a call with Councilwoman Troy in about half an hour."

"Go right ahead, Lieutenant." Richard said. If Thomas's time was limited, he could stomach the interruption.

Thomas gave a short nod of thanks as he quickly checked his datapad. "Ok, first of all, our budget for Operation Red Cross is now completely lined out. With the freighters back in Atlesian hands, and most of the mines still in working order, we can avoid most of the economic consequences of, well, all the infrastructure that we blew up."

_One less thing in the pile of paperwork on my desk._ Richard thought, allowing himself a hint of satisfaction.

"Atlas didn't want any of the SDC's money back?" Bradford asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Well the Council sent me an official inquiry as to when they were getting that back, and I told them to go fuck themselves." Thomas answered, creating a bit of tension in the air. "Well, I worded it a bit more politely than that, of course."

Richard let out a sigh as he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm going to get a few awkward questions from General Ironwood about that, aren't I?"

"I don't see why you would, all that money's already going right back into Remnant's economy." Thomas argued. "If he wants the money back, tell him he's already getting it!"

"I'll be sure to tell him that..." Richard said, knowing fully well that he was going to have to explain to General Ironwood that he wasn't the kind of officer that greased the hands of politicians, especially those that might have had ties to the SDC. "Were there any other important developments that I should know about?"

Thomas checked something on his datapad before answering. "That international conference you were hoping to host is still quite a ways off. I still need to get everyone to agree to send a representative, not to mention pick a location."

"I might have something in mind for that, actually." Bradford interjected. He reached over to the controls of the holotable, and brought up a holographic representation of Remnant, before pointing to a small island north of Sanus. "This island, Vytal. Its location is central to every major nation except Menagerie, but we should still provide transport and escort for everyone. It also has a small settlement on it, meaning that we actually have a place to meet."

Thomas gave a short nod. "Actually, that's a wonderful idea. The Treaty of Vytal was arguably the most critical part of Remnant's recent history, and that should give us a bit of historical precedent for some of the more… controversial things that you plan on proposing."

"Not proposing, demanding." Richard reminded him, knowing full well that Thomas still had doubts about his plan. "If Remnant wants to get itself modernized, it's going to stop hurting itself first."

"I understand that Sir, and you have my full cooperation." Thomas said. "But I'm… worried about this. Historically speaking, major reforms like this take place over decades, not a day."

Bradford folded his arms. "Remnant's had decades to straighten up their act. If they can't learn to start treating each other equally, then we should reconsider our global strategy."

_Which isn't an option, it's not like there's another planet out there we can just rebuild the UNSC on._ Richard thought. _Either the stubborn elements of Remnant start playing ball, or we leave them behind._

"Sir, there was something else, something a bit less… well, urgent, I suppose." Thomas said.

_He's the Public Relations expert._ Richard reminded himself. "Go on."

"Seeing as we're still above Atlas, I propose that when Specialist Schnee returns to the Dominion, we invite General Ironwood to come along with her. We could give him a tour of the ship, and maybe familiarize him with how we run things around here." Thomas said. "Hopefully, it'll help solidify our little alliance that we have going here and… maybe give him a warning of what you're planning to do. I'm sure he'll agree, but having him informed beforehand could lend us some much-needed support for our treaty."

There was an awkward silence as Richard and Bradford took in his words. The other officers on the bridge also noticeably quieted down, as if sensing the significance of his words. Richard thought it over, his mind immediately jumping to all of the things that could go wrong.

"It would certainly give him a better idea of how we operate." Bradford said as he scratched his chin. "And it would help him build up a bit of trust in us."

Richard nodded, moreso to himself than to anyone else. "Alright, let's do it. XO, tell the Deck Crews to put their hangars into a presentable state. Lieutenant Thomas, send our invitation out to the General through Specialist Schnee. She'd likely be the best to approach the topic for us."

"He's probably going to insist on bringing other people, and I don't just mean Specialist Schnee." Bradford pointed out.

"Maybe even a camera crew." Thomas added, with a hint of annoyance.

"He's welcome to bring some of his trusted men along." Richard answered Bradford's unspoken question. "But only his personnel, I will not have any civilians aboard this ship."

_We only took in the slaves because they needed medical care and transport, I will not compromise the security of humanity's only warship._ Richard thought. _Atlas is still simmering down, we do not need an international incident in the halls of the Dominion._

"Good call, the media would pose too great a security risk." Bradford said.

"I could not have said it better myself…" Thomas muttered. "Well, if that was all you needed from me Commander, I will get right on that."

"That was all." Richard confirmed.

As Thomas left the bridge, Bradford turned to him with an expression of doubt. "This is… going to be a little different, isn't it?"

"Relax, the General's a professional. It'll be just like a visit from a colonial governor… only in this case, the visitor actually knows what he's talking about." Richard replied. Both of them chuckled at his little joke before Bradford returned to his other duties.

_A peaceful visit from an honest to god military ally… this ought to be new._ Richard thought.

**Dominion, Starboard Hangar**

**October 15th, 1204 Local Time, 2552**

Winter had not exaggerated when she had said just how utilitarian the UNSC's dropships were. Now that General Ironwood was sitting in the back of a Pelican Dropship, he could see just how the Pelican dropships were somewhat crude on the inside, and seemingly ungainly. But despite their rather large frame and unconventional shape, they flew smoother than even Atlas's top-of-the-line dropships, and at truly ludicrous speeds.

"It is somewhat impressive, isn't it?" Winter asked, apparently noticing how Ironwood was examining the passenger cabin. "In a brutish, industrial sort of way."

_Wow, I think she actually just… complimented something._ Ironwood thought, somewhat surprised by her comment. "It is."

He had elected to only bring Winter along with him. The Ace-Ops were still busy cleaning up the leftovers of the SDC, and although he had hoped to show off Atlas's robotics with the new AK-200 model of knights, the extensive warnings that he'd received from the UNSC about their vulnerabilities convinced him not to. Even if there was a way to protect the robotic soldiers against hacking attacks, the UNSC had made it very clear that they disapproved of their existence.

_That seems more than a little hypocritical, as they apparently have plenty of other drones._ Ironwood critically thought.

"Heads up, General. We're about one minute out from the Dominion. There'll be a slight lurch when the crane latches onto us, so be ready for that." The pilot of the Pelican, a woman known as Fireball, said over the intercom.

Ironwood turned to face Winter, not sure if he had heard Fireball's words correctly. "What was that she said about a crane?"

"The entrance to the hangar is on the bottom of the ship, there's a claw that grabs the dropship, and then it lifts us into the hangar." Winter explained.

Ironwood thought about it for a moment, before he quickly realized that his expectations for how the UNSC ship actually functioned were probably all wrong. He was used to operating naval vessels and airships, but the Dominion was a starship and would be designed with spaceflight in mind.

"I see." Ironwood said, as the dropship momentarily lurched around them. Confusingly, the momentum of what had to be a serious deceleration didn't feel as considerable as it should have.

_Maybe we weren't going as fast as it seemed?_ He thought, although somehow, that didn't seem right either.

When the rear hatch of the dropship finally opened, he was surprised at the sight he saw. The Starboard Hangar of the Dominion looked more like an especially large aircraft workshop than the hangar of an airship, with the pungent smell of lubricant permeating the air. Deck crews and naval personnel milled about the hangar, but they didn't seem to pay Winter or himself any mind. He got a few confused looks, but that was about it.

The actual Hangar itself was packed to the brim with aircraft of many different types. He spotted another Pelican that was hanging from a mount on the ceiling, and several small, but lethal, Hornet gunships arranged in a line, ready to take off at a moment's notice.

It was almost messy at a glance, but at even a moment's consideration, he could identify a bit of logic behind where everything was. Ladders and platforms permitted access to the taller aircraft, as well as those kept hanging from the ceiling, while fire prevention equipment was regularly stored in easy-to-reach places everywhere around the hangar.

"I had no idea they had so many aircraft packed into here." Ironwood said. It was one thing to read Winter's report on the UNSC's strength, it was another thing entirely to see it all in person.

"We're a little under capacity, actually." A vaguely familiar voice said from beside him. Ironwood turned and saw Commander Richard approaching, accompanied by one of the UNSC's tall armored supersoldiers, a Spartan.

The suit of light-grey armor was familiar to him already, but he wondered if there were actually multiple operators for each suit. Either way, the operator was dead silent, and their body language didn't fill in that gap. Ironwood did his best not to stare, recognizing how unprofessional it would be.

"Welcome aboard, General Ironwood." Richard said as he extended his hand, which Ironwood shook. His grip was firm and robust, appropriate for an officer. "I'll admit, I'm a bit curious, what's your first impressions of the Dominion?"

"I'm still figuring that out myself." Ironwood admitted. "But it's a bit… bigger, on the inside, than I was expecting."

Richard let out a soft chuckle as he gave Winter a friendly nod, which, to Ironwood's surprise, she actually returned. "Most of the decks are much more compact than the hangars, as you can expect. We have the two main hangars, one mounted on each flank, and the underslung cargo bay, which typically holds all of the ground vehicles."

_That's smart, if one hangar gets taken out of action, the others can fill in for it._ Ironwood considered.

"If you're ready General, we can begin the tour." The Commander paused, waiting for him to nod before turning. "If you have any questions, or if I'm being too technical, let me know. It's easy to forget that not everyone knows the same military jargon."

Richard led the small party down the hangar, pointing out the various different kinds of aircraft as they went. "Those are our Sabre interceptors. Our models are the stock fighter, they can operate both in and out of the atmosphere."

Ironwood immediately widened his eyes in surprise, these were the Sabres? These menacing spaceplanes were the aircraft the Voodoo squadron had flown during the Battle of Atlas? _I had genuine spaceships at my command, and I never even knew it…_

Richard however, didn't seem to have picked up on his surprised reaction, instead making note of General Ironwood's weapons of choice. "Revolvers?"

Ironwood shifted his holsters subconsciously as he spoke with unashamed pride. "They're a bit higher capacity than they look."

Richard gave a nod of approval. "Good choice of weapon. It's nice to see that more conventional designs still have a place on Remnant."

"They certainly do…" Ironwood responded, although to him, standing on the flight deck of a starship was far from conventional.

Richard led them further through the ship, passing through the Barracks for the Marines, which was surprisingly large. It seemed that much of the Dominion's internal space wasn't dedicated to outright combat, but instead to supporting other elements that it could carry, such as aircraft and ground forces.

_To think, their humanity considers this a small support ship where they come from…_ Ironwood thought as he followed the Dominion's Commander throughout the halls.

He got a few odd looks from the crewmen as he passed, but as they noticed Richard, they snapped to salute until he had passed. Although he only got passing glances at the UNSC navy men, Ironwood could practically sense a sort of weariness about them, either born of paranoia, or perhaps simply exhaustion. Eventually, Richard led them to an elevator, which began to take them up the Dominion's many decks.

"This will take us up to the Bridge." Richard explained.

When they arrived on the Dominion's bridge, it looked quite unlike anything that he had expected. Whereas most of the Dominion was somewhat crude and packed with complex machinery, the bridge was very different. It was sleek, simple, and packed with various monitors and computers, it had vague echoes of the bridges of Atlesian airships, but the UNSC's preferences of simplicity and reliability were still readily apparent. Whereas certain luxuries were afforded to the command staff of an Atlesian cruiser, the Dominion's bridge was just as utilitarian as the rest of the vessel.

As soon as they arrived, the various officers manning the bridge snapped to salute but were quickly relieved by Richard. There was one officer who was standing beside a large holographic table that did not stand to attention, which would have given away his position of authority, had Ironwood not recognized him outright.

"Lieutenant Bradford." Ironwood said, firmly shaking his hand. "It's good to finally speak with you in person."

"Likewise, General." Bradford replied.

During his many discussions with the man on the CCTS, Ironwood had probably learned more from Bradford than he had from Richard. Although the Dominion's XO was clearly starting to show his age, it was equally apparent that his mind was still sharp, and that he was a very capable naval officer.

"I must admit, I was expecting something a bit… smaller." Ironwood said. "In Atlas, our airships have much smaller bridge crews."

"There's more things to look after on a larger ship, especially a spaceborne warship." Richard explained. "As such, you typically need more people to look after them, at least, whenever the shipboard A.I can't do it."

"The shipboard A.I?" Ironwood asked. Although he was already familiar with the fact that the UNSC had some sort of Artificial Intelligence with them, going by the name of Curie, he had not assumed that her duties extended to managing the entire warship. "Just how much can Curie do?"

The holotable in the center of the bridge shimmered slightly as a familiar blue figure emerged into existence. "There are certainly limits on my capabilities, General Ironwood, but an A.I of any kind is far more suited to an administrative task than a human, if only because of our greater processing speed."

Ironwood immediately had a lot of questions, but elected to hold his tongue for some of those that he assumed would be a bit uncomfortable. "I believe I understand. It's a pleasure to meet you as well Curie."

"The same to you." Curie said with a friendly nod.

_I see what Winter meant, she's a lot more… human, then I was expecting._ He quickly exchanged a silent exchange of looks with the Specialist, knowing that they were both thinking about the same thing. _She's like Penny, but in a purely digital form._

"So, this is where you manage all of your operations?" Ironwood asked. Although he could guess the answer, he wanted to double-check, as some nations on Remnant preferred to have separate bridges and command centers.

"That would be correct." Richard said.

"Our satellites and recon drones have eyes over a good chunk of the planet, all that information goes right here." Bradford added. "We don't have global coverage, especially with communications, but if your people would be willing to put together a few satellites of your own, we could change that."

Ironwood raised an eyebrow, that was quite a significant offer.

"I would have to talk to the Council." Ironwood admitted. "Although I imagine they'll be happy to put some Atlesian technology into orbit, especially given how our own satellite program went."

Curie seemed exceptionally interested in his words. "I have assembled a collection of both ancient and modern satellite designs for your engineers to work with. I have prioritized military observation satellites, particularly those which I believe would be useful in tracking Grimm."

Ironwood's train of thought was interrupted at the mention of the Grimm. Ever since the battle of Atlas, they had been oddly quiet, their numbers low, and the Grimm themselves lacked their usual aggressiveness. Although he was happy to see the Grimm gone and Atlas safe, he would be lying if he said he wasn't somewhat paranoid about what had happened.

Had the UNSC really made such a difference in such a short time? It was unlikely but standing where he was, on the bridge to a ship capable of wiping out every kingdom on Remnant, made him consider it. Still, it was his duty to prepare for the worst… and hope for the best.

"There haven't been any updates on what the Grimm are doing everywhere else, right?" Ironwood asked.

"None currently, aside from some minor behavioral oddities in Vacuo." Curie answered, seemingly unconcerned.

Richard however, seemed to share his caution. "I'm afraid we've had difficulties with tracking the Grimm ever since we discovered them. It's almost like they're purpose-built to avoid the sensors of our satellites, our drones have had better luck, but that doesn't mean we know what they're all doing."

"Is it really so hard to believe that they were beaten back?" Bradford asked. "We have a moment of peace, we should enjoy it while it lasts."

_I wish I could empathize with that mindset._ Ironwood thought, noting the older officer's lack of caution. "The Grimm are not pushovers, Lieutenant. We've certainly culled their numbers, but they're normally more persistent."

"I'm not saying that they won't come back." Bradford pointed out, seemingly a bit defensive. "But while they're gone, we have a chance to prepare, get acquainted with one another."

Ironwood thought it over, unsure of what exactly it was that Lieutenant Bradford was proposing, but it wasn't hard to guess. "That would probably be a good idea. Remnant hasn't seen coalition warfare since the Faunus Revolution… and we learned a lot of hard lessons in that war."

"Well, maybe there's a few mistakes we can avoid." Richard said. "Come with me General, we can discuss this further in the War Room."

"Of course." Ironwood said.

"Excuse me, Specialist Schnee?" Curie sheepishly asked, interrupting them as they were about to leave. "I've received a request for your assistance in Sickbay."

Winter gave the A.I a glare of disapproval. "I am busy right now-"

"Nonsense, Richard and I can handle this." Ironwood interrupted her, taking everyone around them off guard. Even the silent and unflinching Spartan tilted his helmet, as if surprised. "If the rest of the crew needs you for something, you'd probably do more good there."

Winter turned to face him with a clear look of concern. "Are you sure, General?"

He thought about it momentarily, even as he was suddenly the center of attention. He understood her caution, perhaps more than he wanted to. Even now, standing on the bridge of the Dominion, a small part of him wondered whether or not he could really trust the UNSC and their intentions. He wondered if there was some sort of elaborate scheme to isolate him and Winter, before killing them both and attacking Atlas. Of course, he and Winter could probably fight their way off the Dominion together, should the worst come to worst...

But at the same time, he recognized the absurdity of that thought and realized that perhaps some of his earlier skepticism towards the UNSC had been unjustified. He'd already known that the UNSC possessed the capability to annihilate life on Remnant if they wished to, but standing aboard their mighty warship, he realized just how outmatched Atlas truly would be. The UNSC might have only comprised around a thousand people, but it was easily the most powerful organization on Remnant.

But despite that drastic difference in strength, the UNSC had pursued peace with Atlas, however flaky their relationship had started. And even though the SDC had pushed those efforts to their very limits, and both he and the UNSC had engaged in some daring diplomatic maneuvers, they had somehow avoided hostility, even in the face of the crisis caused by the SDC.

_That kind of tenacity, that persistence, and dedication to peace… is why we're still alive._ Ironwood realized. And just like that, he knew that he could trust the UNSC, maybe not with everything under his jurisdiction, but he could trust them with his personal safety. He could trust their intentions, that would do for now.

Ironwood gave Winter a nod of reassurance. "I'm certain."

He might have imagined it, but he could've sworn that he saw Winter smile for an instant in response, before turning to face Curie again. "Well, in that case, I suppose I'll head for Sickbay."

"Good, I'll call you when I need you." Ironwood said.

While Winter left the Bridge, Richard looked at him with a completely indecipherable expression. "I… appreciate the good faith, General."

"We're allies now, it's about time we started treating each other like it." Ironwood said, paraphrasing one of Richard's earlier statements.

Richard gave a faint smile, and for a brief moment, Ironwood saw the faintest hint of relief behind his eyes. "Indeed it is."

**Authors Note: I hope everyone's enjoying Halo 3 on PC, and all of the other updates to The Master Chief Collection! Halo 3 is personally my favorite of the games, and it inspired a lot of the storytelling and tonal aspects of this story, particularly some of the things that you'll be seeing in the far future.**


	45. Chapter 45

**Dominion, Barracks**

**October 15th, 1255 Local Time, 2552**

Humanity's medical technology was leagues above what it had once been. Diseases like Cancer were easily treated in the span of a day, and major wounds could be healed within a far shorter time than natural healing could accomplish. Still, having your lung shredded took some time to heal from, and while Yu had suffered wounds before, she had never taken a hit that bad.

She'd been in a coma for three whole days, which the Doctors had deliberately maintained in order to keep her unconscious while they attempted to piece her respiratory system back together. Of course, she didn't remember anything too well, but her whole body ached, and Doctor Chase had said she was lucky to be alive and had only avoided death thanks to some speedily performed first aid from one of her squadmates.

Even though she was only allowed to leave Sickbay in a wheelchair, it was leagues better than just sitting in bed all day. Even if turning the wheels caused her to run out of breath alarmingly fast, it was not going to stand in her way.

_Just because Nathan took the opportunity to lie in bed all day doesn't mean I'm going to!_ She thought. She was a Helljumper, she fell from space in a tiny metal coffin for a living, a nasty wound would not stop that.

She wheeled her way down to the Barracks, stopping for a break twice, and taking a cargo elevator to avoid the ladders. The Navymen that she passed gave her an odd look, it was easy to guess that most of the crew knew what had happened. Still, none of them offered to help her, which was reassuring, that told her she looked like she could still handle herself, which she could. But when she reached the Barracks, she found most of her squad sitting around one of the tables, with Nathan and Fairfire halfheartedly playing a game of cards.

"Hey, Liz!" She shouted, at least, to the best of her ability. It took a considerably larger effort than she expected, and the noise that came out of her mouth was far more similar to a squeaky toy than a proper shout.

She was surprised to see them all stiffen up, as if in shock or fear. Fairfire's reaction was the most confusing, she visibly flinched, as if struck with some sort of unseen weapon. They all turned to face her, their expressions matching their posture.

"Hey uh… hey Yu." Fairfire awkwardly replied. "It's good to… I'm glad you're ok."

_What the hell is up with them?_ Yu thought. She rolled herself over to the table, and got a better look at everyone.

"Good to see you too, Sir." Yu replied as she wheeled her way over. "The Doc let me out for a bit, so I figured I'd stop by while I've got the chance."

Fairfire's facial expression wavered immensely, it was readily apparent that she was trying to keep a straight face, but was clearly struggling. "That's... that's good."

"You uh, alright there, Liz?" Yu asked, noticing the dead-serious looks from Meadows and Nathan. It was so awkward that she couldn't help but chuckle at their unusual behavior. "Someone didn't die while I was gone, right?"

"Yeah… we're alright… we're all fine." Fairfire said, her voice overwhelmingly shaky. "I'll uh… be right back, I've got to use the head."

She darted off, much to Yu's immense confusion. She turned to Meadows and Nathan, hoping for some answers. "Alright, what the hell is wrong with you guys? You look like I just came back from the dead."

"You… kinda did, Yu." Meadows pointed out. "We uh… didn't think you were going to live for a while there."

A chill ran down Yu's spine. That was certainly unsettling to hear. "Yeah well, I didn't. So can all of you just… knock it the hell off? You're freaking me out here…"

Both Nathan and Meadows looked at one another, exchanging some sort of unspoken communication before they both turned back to her. Meadows opted to speak while Nathan maintained a facial expression that looked like he was holding a live frog in his mouth. Had it not been for the apparent seriousness of the occasion, she would have laughed.

"Do you remember what happened, how you got wounded?" Meadows asked, notably gentle with his words.

"I got shot." She curtly replied. "It was a nasty hit, but come on, you guys get wounded all the time!"

Again, Nathan and Meadows exchanged a silent glare, and Yu was starting to become annoyed. "Look, whatever you've got to say, just say it, I can take it."

Meadows visibly braced himself before he spoke. "You… you should probably ask Liz..."

"Dude!" Nathan immediately protested with surprising fury. "What the fuck?! What the hell is that going to change?!"

"Well… this is her responsibility…" Meadows gently replied.

_What?_ Yu asked, feeling more confused than anything. "Wait a-"

"It's not her fault you moron! It's her Semblance, it was fucking with her head!" Nathan argued, interrupting Yu in the process.

Meadows narrowed his eyes at Nathan in return. "You don't know that! None of us know that!"

"What… what the hell did I miss while I was out?" Yu asked, but neither of her squadmates were listening to her.

"So what, you think she just lost her shit in the field?" Nathan rhetorically asked, his voice rich with irritation. "Fairfire's led us through hell how many times now? That's not something she would have done!"

"She still did it Nathan, you have to admit it." Meadows replied with a sense of calm, well-contained anger about him.

"She's not a fucking liability!" Nathan shouted back as he stood up from his chair, Meadows quickly doing the same.

Yu eyed both of them, recognized that there was some sort of bad blood between them, and rolled her wheelchair back a bit.

_What the fuck happened?_ Yu thought, annoyed that she couldn't even get a word in. She tried to raise her voice to interrupt their bickering, but again, she failed to make anything other than a squeak.

If her squadmates did hear her, they didn't respond. What had started as a bickering match had evolved to a full-on argument now, and whatever issue they had was now dominating their minds. The rest of the Marines in the Barracks awkwardly glanced over, clearly not wanting to get involved.

_Screw it, I'll go ask someone else what happened._ Yu thought. She turned herself around and left her two squadmates to yell at each by themselves.

**Dominion, Starboard Armory**

**October 15th, 1259 Local Time, 2552**

After Jorge left to help Lieutenant Clark with some sort of logistical issue, Ben was left alone to continue stowing the Covenant weapons. Thankfully, Curie had finished working on her earlier assignment, and was free to join him in the Armory. Even though she couldn't actually help him stow the weapons or perform repairs, she did know a great deal more about them than he did. But with a moment of quiet, Curie had taken the liberty of calling one of her new friends from Beacon.

"Wow! What does that one do?" Ruby ecstatically asked, her excited expression visible on Ben's datapad, which he had propped up against an ammo container so that she could talk face to face with him and Curie.

"Uh… this is a grease gun…" Ben awkwardly answered, looking at the tool with some newfound doubt. "It uh, greases things."

"Oh." Ruby replied, unashamedly disappointed. Granted, he and Curie had been introducing her to some of the Covenant weapons, at least, the ones that the UNSC didn't intend to keep secret, so her expectations were certainly justified.

"Do not feel discouraged Miss Rose, I can see how its appearance would give off a more exciting impression of its capabilities." Curie said. "You also do not have a point of reference for most Covenant weapons, so your confusion is well justified."

"Thanks Curie." Ruby said before someone else in the room said something to her. "Oh, Weiss wants to know if what she said was helpful."

Ben returned his attention to the plasma rifle that he had partially disassembled, that question was outside of his domain of expertise. It actually seemed that most of what Ruby had to ask was either outside of his knowledge or he simply wasn't allowed to answer. Still, she didn't press him for anything that he wasn't allowed to tell her about, at least, once he explained the potential consequences of him doing that.

"You may tell Miss Schnee that the information she provided was greatly helpful and that she has our sincerest thanks." Curie answered. "And If I might add something, you may also tell her that Specialist Schnee should now be able to answer her calls, now that she has returned to the Dominion."

Ruby sternly nodded. "Got it, hang on just a moment."

She put the call on hold as she presumably went to go talk to her teammates, leaving Ben and Curie alone once again.

"It's nice to hear from her again, I was afraid we would not be able to contact one another." Curie said, her expression making her relief very clear.

"It is." Ben said. "Although I don't know how I feel about her learning about Covenant weaponry."

Curie looked at him with a bemused expression. "Why, are you afraid she is going to come aboard and try and take some for herself?"

Ben huffed with amusement. "I'm not sure if Huntresses can pull off a mission like that."

Curie looked at him with an expression of mild frustration, so he opted to give his genuine answer.

"It's not up to me to decide what information is classified and what isn't, but it is my duty to keep that information protected regardless." Ben explained.

"Well, according to the Camberman Resolution passed by ONI Section II in 2544, none of the information that she has learned has violated information secrecy protocol." Curie pointed out.

Ben nodded, he could trust Curie to stick to her orders. "I understand, forget what I said."

But before Curie could say anything else, the bulkhead to the armory unexpectedly opened, and someone in a wheelchair rolled in. Ben stood up and saw that it was Yu, she closed the airlock behind her and started rolling towards him.

"Hey Ben, mind if I ask you something real quick?" She asked, a notable hint of exertion in her voice. In fact, now that he was looking, he could see that her cheeks were a bit red.

He glanced at Curie, who silently nodded to him, confirming that she would continue to talk to Ruby while he saw what Yu needed. "Not at all, what's on your mind?"

"What the hell has everyone else in the squad so riled up about?" Yu asked. "Meadows and Nathan were bickering like in-laws, and Fairfire looks… scared."

_Why come to me for this?_ Ben fought the urge to sigh, personal issues were not something he was used to dealing with. It was clearly important to her though. But judging by what she was saying, he quickly deciphered the issue. "Do you remember how you were wounded?"

"I don't." Yu answered. "The Doctors said that they were busy when I asked and that you guys would explain it."

Ben fought the urge to shake his head, apparently it would be up to him to bring his squadmate up to speed. "Corporal Fairfire attempted to execute a POW, you intervened and saved their life, but were shot by a sniper in the process."

Ben felt himself flinch as he watched Yu's face shift at the revelation, he had limited experience with soldiers having their world flipped upside down, mostly in the form of Spartan III candidates who failed to make the cut. Her face matched that expression perfectly, but she quickly recovered from the shock and adopted a more stoic disposition.

"D-damn…" Yu muttered. "Any idea why the Ser-... why Liz did it?"

"I couldn't say for certain, there's some rumors about her Semblance causing a problem somewhere, but that's just a rumor." Ben answered. "To be honest, you should probably just ask her about it."

Yu slowly nodded as she processed the information. "I… thanks, Ben."

"I wish I had better news for you." Ben said, hoping the sympathy in his voice was clear even through his helmet.

Yu didn't say anything else, she turned herself around and left the armory without further incident.

"You know, you have a habit of being blunt about this sort of thing." Curie somewhat cynically pointed out.

"It's better to be blunt than dance around the issue." Ben argued. "Is Ruby back yet?"

"Not yet, but I imagine she won't be much longer." Curie answered.

Sure enough, Ruby returned at that exact moment. "I'm back, Weiss said thank you for the news."

A muffled voice shouted "I did not!" in the background on the other end, prompting an expression of irritation on Ruby's face as well as a stern response. "Well, maybe you should have!"

Curie chuckled at the small confrontation, gaining Ruby's attention again. "I am happy to hear that, Miss Rose, but you should not feel a need to lie on your teammates' behalf."

"It's… well, it's not really a lie…" Ruby argued. "Weiss just has… people problems."

Curie outright laughed, and Ben added a slight chuckle of his own. "I am sure that Miss Schnee is perfectly capable of speaking for herself, but I appreciate the concern."

There was an awkward moment of silence as Curie's hologram rippled faintly, before restoring to normal. Apparently Ruby must have picked up on it, because she raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Hey Curie, what did you just do?"

Curie cocked her head in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"You did a… flickery, thing." Ruby pointed out.

"She does that sometimes." Ben interjected. "It's a part of being an A.I."

_Right?_ He silently added. But Curie gave him a nod of confidence, and his own concerns were dashed.

"Heh, Sorry, I haven't met very man-" Ruby paused, her eyes widening for a second before she coughed into her fist. "A-anyway, it's been nice catching up with you guys, but we have classes in a few minutes."

"Do not disrupt your personal education just to socialize with us, Miss Rose." Curie said. "We will have plenty of chances to talk in the future."

Ruby smiled at her words. "Sounds good, talk to you in a bit Curie, bye Ben!"

He gave a grunt of acknowledgement as she ended the call. Curie turned to look at him with a slight look of disapproval. "You really can't muster the effort to say goodbye?"

"Is that a social thing?" Ben jokingly asked.

"Ha Ha." Curie replied, although her expression gave away her own faint amusement. "Now then, let's get these Covenant weapons squared away."

Ben had no complaints, and with her help, it was easy work.

_I think I could get used to easy missions._ Ben thought.

**Dominion, Sickbay**

**October 15th, 1310 Local Time, 2552**

"Here you go Corporal, now please, let me get back to work." Doctor Chase said, before gently gesturing Fairfire into the lobby.

_We can make super-strong robot limbs, but not a headache pill that goes to work right away, typical._ Fairfire thought, rubbing her temples as she thought about what had brought on such a sudden, intense headache. _I swear, if this is a side effect of Aura I'm gonna scream._

Her thoughts were quickly interrupted by a familiar huff of amusement. "You look like how I used to look every morning."

Fairfire turned and saw Winter sitting on the bench next to hers, halfheartedly reading through some decade-old magazine that, judging by the cover, was about terraforming glassed worlds.

Fairfire perked up slightly at the sight of the Specialist. "I didn't know you were back, ma'am."

"I was gone for a single mission, you all act like I went on a long-term hunting expedition." Winter said, her voice containing a faint hint of annoyance, but also amusement. "Still, it's good to know I was missed."

"You certainly were!" Fairfire happily replied. "I'm sorry to say I haven't made much progress on my Semblance…"

Winter lowered the magazine and turned to face her directly. "That's to be expected, this isn't going to happen overnight you know."

_How long is this going to take then?_ Fairfire thought, but she stayed silent, she knew that Winter had no answer to offer her.

"Don't mistake my reassurances as an encouragement to be lazy, it's a simple fact of how Semblances work." Winter quickly added. "Some people never find their Semblance, and there's a theory that some people might not even have them."

Fairfire raised an eyebrow. "Even with an activated Aura?"

"It's a theory Corporal, one that I don't put much stock into." Winter said, her expression making it very clear how she felt on the matter even before she finished speaking. "Still, that is a possibility that you should be ready to face."

Fairfire let out a long breath, not a sigh, but a stressed exhale. "I… don't think I could face that."

"Because you need the excuse?" Winter stated, her voice devoid of accusation. "You don't solve a problem by finding a way to make it irrelevant, you solve it by actually finding a solution."

Fairfire thought it over while Winter continued to speak, her voice stern, but notably more gentle than their earlier lessons.

"I've never done anything like attacking a prisoner, I couldn't tell you what to do to earn forgiveness from your comrades." Winter said. "But stressing out over it won't help you, finding a solution will."

Fairfire sighed. "What if there is no solution?"

"There is always a solution, if you cannot find one, then you're approaching your obstacle the wrong way." Winter said. "Atlas exists because people hundreds of years ago did the impossible, and made the wasteland of Mantle hospitable."

Fairfire gave a somewhat undignified snort of amusement. "You know, you would make a great motivational coach."

Winter actually laughed, which was, to put it bluntly, really weird. She'd always seemed somewhat stony and hard to approach, so hearing her genuinely amused by Fairfire's dumb joke was very unexpected. It wasn't loud or undignified in any manner, the laugh equivalent of a polite clap, but it was reassuring.

"I don't believe that anyone has ever said that to me before." Winter admitted. "Although I admit, I don't do this sort of thing very often."

"Maybe you should." Fairfire suggested. "Maybe once all this is wrapped up and we've all got some shore leave, you, me, and Corporal Sato can go for a ladies' night out!"

Again, Winter politely laughed, which Fairfire found quite heartwarming. "Oh, I'm not so sure…"

"Think it over, it's gonna be a while before that happens anyway…" Fairfire said, trying not to be pushy.

"I certainly will." Winter said with a smile.

_The daughter of a war criminal and a genuine war criminal, man, we'd make the world's shittest superhero duo._ Fairfire thought. _Or maybe we wouldn't be so bad… If I can talk to Yu that is..._

**Atlesian Soil**

**October 15th, 1323 Local Time, 2552**

The Atlesian military uniform was tight, stuffy, and far too formal looking, Tyrian absolutely hated it. But Salem had instructed him to infiltrate the local garrison, and that meant that even if he had to do so wearing nothing but a garbage bag with a few holes cut out for his limbs, he would have happily done it. There was no duty that was inglorious when it came directly from the Queen herself.

The uniform did its job, obviously, he looked nothing like an Atlesian soldier at even the slightest examination, but at a glance, he blended in, which was all he needed. Sometimes an Officer would stop him and ask for his identification, which was certainly inconvenient, but they couldn't really do much to actually stop him. A swift stab with his stinger here and a slash with the Queen's Servants there and the obstacle was gone.

_Why do they even have these guys?_ He thought as he stuffed yet another lifeless corpse into a dumpster. But he gave a happy shrug once he realized that it didn't matter, it just meant that his task would be accomplished much faster. He'd already left a small gift for the Backup Radar array, one that would ideally detonate along with all the rest.

The clean streets and alleyways steadily gave way to the more untamed wilderness that dotted the coast of the city. A good distance away from the city itself was his next target. The largest Radar tower in the immediate area, built as part of an early warning system for the city in the event that a large force of Grimm was inbound.

It also allowed Atlas to monitor a sizable portion of the sea, which ran directly against his Queen's plans. Without it, Atlas would be left blind in one eye, and its defenders would struggle to respond properly. Tyrian bit back his urge to laugh, biting so hard his tongue bled. The sweet taste of his own blood reminded him of what his Queen would do should he fail. Such an impossible idea, he could never fail her, for if he did he would not be the perfect servant, and he _was _the perfect servant.

_Failure is impossible!_ Tyrian sternly reminded himself.

The defenses for such a critical strategic location were surprisingly lacking, and presented little in the way of a challenge for Tyrian. The half-dozen Atlesian soldiers all fell before they could fire a shot, or even raise the alarm.

"Okay Doctor, let's have a bit of fun with one of your new toys…" Tyrian said with a cackle as he withdrew a small metal cylinder from his pocket. He'd tried to explain what exactly it was to him, but Tyrian hadn't really been listening, all that mattered to him was that it made a big explosion with lots of fire. It was the largest of the explosives that he had been given, and purpose-built to eat away at the durable base of the tower.

He briefly pondered where to put the device, before settling on leaving it atop the helmet of one of the guards. Before he could place it however, he discovered that apparently he was somehow still alive, but he could barely breathe, and didn't even try to move.

"Aww… there there…" Tyrian said, patting him on the shoulder, the soldier's eyes drifted to meet his own, but they found no mercy. "Do you think you can do me a favor?"

The dying soldier only wheezed in response as Tyrian decided that perhaps he shouldn't be playing with his food. He wound the timer like Doctor Watts had instructed, placing the bomb onto the soldier's lap.

"Hold this." Tyrian instructed, before he bolted away, cackling all the way.

_Not done yet, now for the rest!_ Tyrian thought, gleefully making his way for the next Radar station. It would not be long before Atlas discovered their dead soldiers, so he would need to move quickly.

As he walked the streets of the city, he couldn't help but grin, a vision of fire filling his head, his Queen's vision.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 1335 Local Time, 2552**

Every time that General Ironwood thought that the UNSC had run out of surprises, he was proven wrong. The first surprise was the true extent of their ships weaponry, where Commander Richard showed him the capacitors for the Magnetic Accelerator Cannon, as well as one of the missile silos for larger weapons systems. It was also what they would use to launch their nuclear warheads, a weapon that Richard explained as being considerably deadlier than even the main cannon.

Although he had already been made aware of the existence of such a weapon, Richard took the time to explain how it worked, and the potential long-lasting effects of actually using them. They had two kinds of nukes, the larger missile-delivered "Hyperion" and the smaller "Fury," which Richard described as not dissimilar to a nuclear grenade. The scariest part of the weapons to him was the "Fallout" leftover, radioactive particles from a nuclear blast that caused contamination that could last decades or even centuries. While Remnant had known about the concept of radioactivity and its potential health hazards for some time, knowing that it could be weaponized in such a devastating manner worried him greatly.

_To think, they developed weapons like this before they even left for space…_ Ironwood thought, wondering just how bloody Earth's history truly was. The Grimm-free planet sounded less and less like paradise by the day.

They also took a brief detour to inspect the UNSC's captive alien, an Elite, as the UNSC called them. Although Winter had shown him images of the creature, seeing it in person was very different, as it was currently sleeping in a rather undignified manner. Although Richard insisted that actually speaking with the alien was currently a bad idea, but he also promised that Ironwood would get a chance to speak with it in the future.

They walked through many of the other decks and systems of the Dominion, including a gymnasium, the Barracks, the Foundry where they produced their own spare parts and apparently even some limited equipment, and most impressively, the ship's reactor. The UNSC apparently had such an impressive understanding of their strange radioactive materials that they could use them to produce practically bottomless energy. When it was all done, they returned to the Bridge.

"This ship is truly impressive." Ironwood said, not at all ashamed to admit that he was in awe. "I couldn't even begin to imagine constructing a vessel like this, let alone something even larger."

"The Dominion is a light frigate back home, designed to ferry troops and support the heavier ships in battle." Richard said, although Ironwood had already known that. "Out here… well, we're happy to have the naval advantage."

_I bet so._ Ironwood grimly thought. He'd heard more about the UNSC's naval battles with the Covenant than he honestly would have liked too, he wasn't entirely sure that he could imagine a whole fleet of ships like the Dominion getting ripped apart so easily. "And we're happy to have you."

Richard gave him a small, but genuine smile. "I can certainly think of worse places to get stranded than Remnant."

_That's because you don't know the truth. You don't know about Salem._ Ironwood thought. _Then again, with weapons like these, and orbit capability… maybe they could put her down for good. I doubt Ozpin has ever tried such… devastating technology on her._

He decided right then that the UNSC in some form, perhaps even just Richard, needed to be inducted into Ozpin's inner circle. He now understood Ozpin's optimism, why he had been so hopeful about the UNSC. "Commander… there's something else that we should discuss, probably in private."

Richard cautiously raised an eyebrow. "Is something wrong?"

Ironwood wasn't exactly sure how to answer that question, but found a vague enough answer that he could work with. "There's something important that I believe you, Headmaster Ozpin, and myself need to discuss."

Richard and Bradford glanced at one another before Richard answered. "Headmaster Ozpin-"

Richard was interrupted, however, by one of his bridge officers. The woman who was manning what was apparently some sort of communications station. "General Ironwood! There's a priority transmission on the Atlesian Emergency Band, you might want to come listen to this."

Ironwood quickly discarded the difficult subject that he was failing to properly bring up, and walked over to the officer, followed closely by Richard and Bradford. "What's the message?"

"Here General, I'll play it back for you." She said, quickly typing in a command. A moment later, a panicked, but vaguely familiar voice could be heard over the radio.

"This is a general distress call to all Atlesian Military forces and active Huntsmen." A woman said, her accent giving her the impression of being a member of Atlas's more well-off citizens.

_Cordovin._ Ironwood suddenly remembered, she was the commander of the Atlesian Base in Argus. She had something of a reputation of being an incompetent beaurucrat in the military, but Ironwood had never known her well enough to make his own judgement.

"There has been a terrorist attack on our primary Radar system, and we are now under attack by a massive force of Grimm, Level Eight or higher. We require immediate reinforcements from any available forces." She said calmly but firmly.

The Bridge went dead silent as the transmission repeated itself, once, then twice. Finally, Ironwood broke the silence. "It's looped, cut the transmission."

She did as he asked and ended the transmission as Ironwood turned to face Richard and Bradford. "Commander-"

"Well General, it looks like we picked a hell of a day for a visit…" Richard stated, a newfound determination on his face.


	46. Chapter 46

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 1340 Local Time, 2552**

The atmosphere on the Bridge seemed to have suddenly shifted. The spines of every bridge officer straightened as they shifted into a more professional posture, their faces adopting a more stoic expression. The chatter of the Bridge silenced instantly, and the only sounds that could be heard were those of terminals, computers, and keyboards working. The time for relaxed discussion was gone, it was time to work.

Those officers that didn't have immediate, essential duties looked to Richard for instruction, including Bradford. Ironwood similarly looked to him, his expression unmoving, as if trying to guess what Richard would order. But Richard already knew there was only one option of how to respond.

"That's Commander Cordovin, she's in charge of the garrison at Argus." Ironwood explained to Richard, speaking before he could. "It's a city towards the north end of Anima, if it's in danger of falling…"

"I understand." Richard replied, with mental images from the bloodiest battles of the Covenant war flashing in his mind. He knew from experience what happened when major population centers fell, he was not going to let it happen again. "Ensign Williams, set a course for Argus, best speed!"

"Aye Sir!" Williams shouted in response.

Even as the young Helmsman answered him, Richard turned to Bradford and issued his next order with what he could only hope was a confident look on his face. "Action Stations, set Condition One throughout the ship."

"Aye Sir." Bradford said, before grabbing the intercom and issuing the order. "Action Stations, Action Stations, this is not a drill. Set Condition One throughout the ship, I repeat-"

As Bradford spoke, Richard turned to face Ironwood, but he spoke first. "Commander, I appreciate the support-"

"General, I understand that this battle will likely be a significant diplomatic milestone for not just Atlas, but Remnant as a whole." Richard interrupted him, a no-nonsense tone in his voice. "But right now, your people don't need kind words and pleasantries, they need us to do our jobs. So please, tell me everything you know about the defences at Argus."

If Ironwood was at all insulted, he did not show it, instead remaining as professional and stoic as ever. If anything, he looked a bit relieved. Soon his expression, as well as the whole bridge, were illuminated by the red battle-lights of the Dominion going into full-alert. "We've been withdrawing forces from Argus for the last two weeks to reinforce Atlas, they're going to be in serious trouble if we can't get there quickly."

_Damnit. _Richard though. That was a complication that he had inadvertently caused, and now it was costing both him and the people of Argus. "Ensign Williams, how long will it take us to get there?"

"An hour, Sir, but we can make it in half that if we do a low-orbit burn." Williams quickly answered as he brought the Dominion about. Beneath his feet, Richard felt the immense mass of what was now humanity's strongest warship shift against the force of Remnant's atmosphere.

"Do it." Richard instructed, before turning back towards Bradford and Ironwood. "Lieutenant Bradford, ensure that all of our Air-Wings are set for action, load the Sabres for interception and send them on their way."

Bradford nodded and began to carry out his orders as Ironwood spoke up, his expression rich with confusion. "Half an hour, in this massive thing?"

"She's not just meant to ferry troops General, she's meant to do it quickly." Richard slyly answered, feeling a hint of pride in his warship for not the first time.

_I can see why Captains get attached to their vessels, it's a truly unique feeling._ He thought, momentarily relishing the slight shake of such a massive vessel beginning to climb out from Remnant's atmosphere.

"Either way, I'll need to assemble a force from Atlas to reinforce. This ship is certainly impressive, but a Level Nine attack is not something we want to take chances with." Ironwood said, a pressing urgency in his voice.

_I wish I knew what that meant._ Richard grumpily thought. "Use our communications station, and be quick, we'll need your knowledge if we're going to respond accordingly."

Ironwood flashed a rare expression of sympathy. "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it General, this is what we do for a living." Richard replied with a reassuring nod, before Ironwood moved to the communications console to radio back to home.

Richard meanwhile, had more orders to issue. "Lieutenant Gage, charge point defense guns and warm up the MAC, cap it at half power."

"Aye Sir." Gage replied, his voice shaky, but his demeanor calm.

"Relax Lieutenant, it's just the Grimm, this'll be a good ol' turkey shoot." Bradford reassured him, apparently noting the man's shakiness.

"Ensign Gillespie, alert Lieutenant Clark and Lieutenant Jorge to prepare their respective units for battle, we'll be dropping them in as soon as we arrive." Richard instructed. "Lieutenant Chen, alert Commander Cordovin that we are on our way, and to prepare for our arrival."

"Aye Sir!" They both shouted in response.

"Let me handle that Lieutenant, I know the Commander, and my knowledge of Atlesian Radio Protocol is more extensive." Ironwood said, joining Lieutenant Chen at the Communication Station.

There was a momentary hesitation as she must have mentally pondered whether or not she was supposed to obey Ironwood's orders. She gave Richard a silent, questioning look, to which he only responded with a nod.

Thankfully, his message had been properly conveyed, as she grabbed a headset and handed it to General Ironwood. "I'll handle the transmission Sir, here, I'll patch you through."

Richard turned back to the holotable and examined the holographic representation of Argus that Curie had constructed. A wave of red markers swarmed around the outer defenses as the defenders repelled them.

_So much for a moment of peace…_ Richard thought as he examined the carnage. _For mindless beasts, this is a surprisingly well-timed attack._

And yet, Richard felt a calm reassurance in the back of his mind. They had beaten the Grimm before, and that had been a battle with less acting in their favor, perhaps he didn't have too much to worry about.

**UNSC Dominion, Starboard Armory**

**October 15th, 1342 Local Time, 2552**

It didn't take long for the Armory to go from the quietest room on the Dominion to the loudest, even before the alert siren began to sound. Ben was rapidly joined by Marines, ODSTs, and Jorge, all of whom began to rapidly and rhythmically equip themselves. Equipment lockers were quickly thrown open as the defenders of humanity all recited a set of vaguely-chaotic but well-practiced movements, throwing on boots and armor alike.

"Prep your kit Spartan, we've got a situation!" Jorge instructed. Ben had already finished putting away the last of the Covenant weapons, and now he was wondering if perhaps he should have left a couple of them out.

"What's the mission?" Ben asked as he made for the nearest available equipment locker, thankfully, there was just a big enough gap for him to gear up.

"We've got a major city that's being stormed by Grimm. For some reason, their early warning system failed to spot them coming!" Jorge explained, his loud commanding voice overpowered all of the others in the armory, as the Marines instinctively shut up and listened. "Pack for a long fight, and a plasma secondary!"

A shiver ran down Ben's spine, urban combat was a nightmare for anyone involved. Thankfully, it seemed like they would be on the defensive, but that did not mean that their mission would be easy. If it was a major city, civilians would also probably be present.

_This is going to be bad._ Ben immediately thought, a strong sense of danger in his gut. He ignored it and focused on gathering his equipment.

Ben interpreted Jorge's orders to mean that he only needed an extra rifleman, and selected an MA5B Assault Rifle for the job, along with a Plasma Rifle, as per Jorge's instruction. He also grabbed a rucksack, and liberally filled it with extra magazines and grenades. He paused for a moment at the reinforced hardcase that held the UNSC's limited supply of plasma grenades.

"Take two." Curie advised. "And then drop me off at the nearest terminal, the Commander is going to need me in the Dominion."

"Are you sure?" Ben asked as he retrieved both of the dangerous blue devices, affixing them to one of the pouches on his chestpiece.

"I am positive, if Commander Richard does not need me to help manage the Dominion, I will alert you." Curie answered.

Ben did as she commanded and quickly dropped her off at the nearest terminal, where she would be able to work her way through the Dominion's systems to help wherever she was needed. Although Onyx would certainly be less effective without her, they were more than capable of acting independently as well. If she was needed to help manage the Dominion, she would probably do more good back aboard the ship than with them.

_It's a shame that we couldn't save Dot, she would be really useful right around now._ Ben thought.

Around him, his squad made themselves ready, Nathan grabbed his Sniper Rifle and Jorge retrieved and prepared Etilka. With both Yu and Fairfire out of action, they would be missing both a breacher and a heavy equipment operator, Meadows sought to remedy at least one of those issues by equipping himself with the legendary Spartan Laser.

"You sure?" Ben asked, carrying such a heavy weapon would be quite the commitment for the Helljumper.

Meadows looked at him with a sly grin. "Ben, I've been looking for an excuse to bring one of these for years, don't deny me this."

Ben nodded at Meadows's joking response, they would need the firepower anyway. The rest of the ODSTs, Kowalski, Peggy, and Kerry, all equipped themselves with a mix of plasma weapons and battle rifles.

Even in the confines of his armor, Ben could sense the confidence of the men and women around him. Nobody said it aloud, but all of them knew that this would be the largest battle that they had fought on Remnant, even larger than Operation Bismarck had been. But unlike their previous fights, they would be fighting Grimm, creatures that the UNSC's arsenal and well-trained soldiers had proven more than a match for.

The Marines were jubilant, their excitement barely contained, this was what they lived for. They were veterans of the war with the Covenant, and fighting against an enemy like the Grimm carried no ethical or moral doubt to linger on after the battle. Fighting such an enemy was what Ben had originally aimed to do as a Spartan, and even if they looked a bit different, the Grimm were no better than the Covenant. Still, he found the excited chatter and enthusiasm of the Marines to be a bit unnerving.

_Confidence is critical, but arrogance is what makes cocky men into dead men._ Ben remembered another lesson from Mendez. A quick and silent exchange of glances with Jorge confirmed that he was thinking the same thing, which only reinforced his fears.

But it wasn't his job to worry about every Marine on the Dominion, it was his job to follow his orders and contribute towards completing the objectives given to Onyx Team. So he finished packing his kit, slung his rucksack over his back, and waited for further instructions, but he would not have to wait long.

"Onyx Team, head for the vehicle bay." Jorge instructed, presumably relaying some unheard instructions from the bridge. "We'll be boarding Fireball's Pelican, Zulu 198."

"Sir, Yes Sir!" Every member of the squad shouted. With his equipment fully prepared, Ben set out immediately.

**UNSC Dominion**

**October 15th, 1348 Local Time, 2552**

It was both a blessing and a curse to think at the speed that Curie did. Smart could process information hundreds of times faster than an ordinary human, and while Curie was by no means a traditional Smart A.I, she still "sensed" things happening considerably faster than humans did. It was incredibly useful, especially in combat, as it allowed her to think clearly and at a speed that nothing else, especially on Remnant, could ever hope to match.

But as she listened to the panicked signals and communications coming in and out of Argus, Curie could only wish that time would move faster, so that she would not have to listen to people suffer as she was helpless to assist. All of the signals of the CCTS, combined with the overhead reconnaissance of one of the Dominion's recon satellites, gave Curie a vivid and constantly developing picture of the battle, sometimes with a little bit too much detail. There were also a handful of security cameras which she quickly brought under her control and added to her enormous pool of data.

All of the information that she received was taken, absorbed, compacted, and streamlined, before being recited to Commander Richard and the rest of the officers on the Bridge. She was consciously aware of General Ironwood briefing Lieutenant Clark and Jorge over the radio, trying to quickly bring them up to speed on the terrain of Argus and what they would need to do to stop the Grimm.

The Atlesian Defenders, combined with small numbers of Mistral Militiamen, as well as dozens of Huntsmen and Huntresses, formed a capable and decently-sized ground force. Although they seemed to lack many heavy vehicles, they had plenty of competent infantrymen, which would be invaluable as the defenders were slowly pushed back into the city. However, they had been caught off guard and out of position, thanks to what appeared to be deliberate sabotage of all of Argus's Radar Stations.

_Who would do such a thing, and why?_ Curie thought, deeply troubled by the revelation. Terrorists frequently acted illogically, which made determining their motivations difficult, but as Curie's estimated death toll for the battle skyrocketed by the minute, she failed to imagine what could motivate any intelligent being to undertake such an action.

The city of Argus was built into a valley between two coastal hills, offering a valuable and defendable location that even had a fortified wall at the top of the slope that led down into the coast. Curie would have called it beautiful, were it not for the fact that it was currently under attack by a swarm of Grimm that made her feel ashamed with its sheer size. The Wall itself had yet to be breached, but certain Grimm types could climb over the lesser-defended portions of it.

There were tens of thousands of Grimm, so many that Curie gave up on trying to estimate their number at the thirty-five thousand mark. There were small ones, like Beowolves and Boarbatusks, accompanied by larger types such as the Deathstalker and the Taijitus. But the largest of the Grimm stayed near the rear of the horde, such as the monolithic Goliaths, which bided their time as they waited for the moment to strike.

There were also some types of Grimm that Curie had not previously seen as well, such as a deeply unsettling creature that reminded her of the ancient Tyrannosaurus, that reached easily twenty meters in height. Its teeth were more like the blades of swords than any sort of conventional tooth, and its jawline was reinforced with what looked like a sharpened bone plate. Thankfully, they seemed to stay behind most of the Grimm, but for how long, Curie couldn't guess.

But by far the biggest threat to Argus and the Dominion alike was the flying Grimm, ranging dramatically in size and lethality. Gigantic Nevermores shared the sky with Manticores and Griffons as they partook in a chaotic dogfight with Atlesian strike craft. Forming a final line of defense in the skies was a trio of Atlesian Cruisers, the Fox, the Perseus, and the Neptune, which held a tight formation around the island upon which the Atlesian military base stood as they fired volleys of laser fire into the Grimm hordes.

Back on the Dominion, all eight Sabres of Voodoo Squadron launched from both of the Dominion's side-mounted hangars in rapid succession. Unlike the rest of the Dominion's embarked aircraft and spacecraft, the Sabres were considerably faster than the Dominion, meaning that they would arrive several minutes before the Dominion itself.

_Fly fast pilots, they will need you down there…_ Curie silently remarked, watching as the storm of smoke and gunfire around the walls of Argus intensified.

But as Curie watched the battle develop from the advanced cameras of a satellite, she noticed an oddity in the way that the Grimm moved. Rather than move as part of a large wave, they were seemingly segregated into different formations. Swarms of Nevermores and packs of Beowolves moved in completely separate ways, hinting perhaps at some kind of pack mentality amongst the different subspecies of Grimm. But it was less like the movements of wild animals, and more like a deranged mockery of the movements of human military units.

_Perhaps they are like a pack of wolves, and the "Alpha" designation for certain Grimm is more accurate than I anticipated… _Curie thought, disturbed by the idea of a greater intelligence behind the Grimm's actions. Still, time was of the essence, and she could not afford to think in such a way while the battle still raged.

Even despite being hopelessly outnumbered, the Huntsmen and Huntresses of Argus fought with a ferocity and fearlessness that reminded Curie of the Spartans. Although she only had a handful of security cameras on the ground to give her a closer view, she could see that in a close fight, the Grimm were being ripped apart. Weapons slashed, smashed, and penetrated Grimm in manners that Curie had scantily imagined possible. Even despite a total lack of unified equipment, tactics, or even organization, the Huntsmen performed unexpectedly well.

_Perhaps my earlier special forces comparison was more apt than I had anticipated._ Curie thought, recognizing that without the Huntsmen, the outer defenses of Argus would have long since fallen by now. She watched with both confusion and respect as one Huntress used a giant hook and a quad-barreled shotgun to fling the Grimm into the air, before blasting it apart. _No, wait, the hook is part of the weapon..._

In the sky, lasers and missiles flew from the decks of the Atlesian Airships, while their escorting smaller craft did their best to protect them from attacks by the larger flying Grimm. But they were noticeably more overburdened than the forces on the ground, and the shields of the Cruiser Neptune were rapidly eroded and fires began to break out across the ship. Frustrated at her inability to help in any considerable manner, Curie quickly downloaded the fire control software for all of the Atlesian Cruisers, ran a brief optimization, and beamed it to the three embattled warships.

Curie was consciously aware that attempting to manage every bit of information from Argus was taking up a considerable amount of her processing power, and opted to send certain tasks to Lieutenant Chen and Ensign Gillespie so that she would not have to do it all alone. Still, the overload was quite straining, but various Atlesian comms officers quickly offered their support, and soon, she was back to having a small amount of leftover processing power. But as she filtered through the slew of communications, a single transmission caught her attention as it reached the Dominion's communications dish.

Broadcasting over the Atlesian Command Channel, Commander Cordovin spoke with a furious tone of voice that had an oddly inspiring effect, at least, in Curie's opinion.

"Attention all units, be mindful of your surroundings, I am activating the Colossus!" She said, and was met by a slew of enthusiastic responses from the various defenders.

Curie's curiosity was immediately grabbed, and she quickly downloaded a more recent report on Argus's "Colossus" vehicle from the Atlesian Battlenet.

_...Oh._ Curie thought, not really sure how she was supposed to digest the information she had just read. Nevertheless, she passed it on to Commander Richard, and silently hoped that Cordovin's stunt would be enough to buy some time for the Dominion to arrive.

**Argus Military Base**

**October 15th, 1354 Local Time, 2552**

Mechanical servos whirred and spun as the stony spire of the Atlesian Military Base in Argus pulled itself neatly apart, revealing the concealed mech within. Manipulating the controls, Cordovin took the first steps out from the rocky prison of the Colossus and adopted a ready stance as the numerous sensors and cameras provided her with all of the information that she needed to decide her next move. Whatever staff were left in the base stood aside and let her slowly step forwards as the massive legs of the Colossus effortlessly made room in the water for her.

The Colossus was Cordovin's brainchild, a mech towering just over thirty meters tall, and coated in dense, durable armor. She had aimed to encapsulate the superiority of Atlesian technology into a single, powerful mech, that was capable of taking on even the strongest Grimm by itself, and she had succeeded. But that had been many, many years ago, the Colossus was no spring chicken, and neither was she, but both of them were still standing in defense of Argus despite their age.

"Let them come…" Cordovin muttered to herself as she charged the weapons systems. Her shields powered on as she raised the arms of the mech stepped forward towards the beach, steam hissing and aging servos whirring as it moved.

_The UNSC better be all that it's cracked up to be!_ Cordovin thought, nervously eyeing the countdown before her that was rapidly ticking down the minutes until she could expect reinforcements. Were it not for the stakes of their current situation, she would have scoffed at the idea of Atlas needing help in a battle, but now, waiting fifteen minutes for help seemed like an impossibility.

But she had never seen such a massive Grimm attack before, and never so suddenly. If she ever got her hands on that wormy bastard who took down her defensive grid, she would fire him out of her main gun. Thankfully, it seemed that the aquatic Grimm were feeling a bit lazy today, at least for now. With the seafront more or less secure, she could focus the efforts of her forces, as well as her Colossus, on the Grimm attacking the wall.

Cordovin continued to step forward until the massive metal feet of the Colossus stood upon Argus's beachfront, taking care not to step on anyone who was fleeing to the safety of the military base. It was impossible not to feel sympathy for the fleeing civilians that she was duty-bound to protect. She enabled the loudspeakers of the mech and issued a swift order.

"Get to the base, proceed in an orderly fashion!" Cordovin shouted, hoping to regain some sense of order, but it was a lost cause, the citizens of Argus knew the stakes as well as she did.

_I will not fail you!_ She insisted to herself, raising the massive primary dust cannon of the Colossus, and cycling the ammo until she found the type that she desired.

Brilliant golden energy flashed from the bore of her massive weapon as the force of lighting itself was bent to her whim. Like a dozen whips of arcane energy, the lightning bolts dashed into the sky faster than any Grimm could ever hope to evade. Dozens of flying Grimm fell in a single shot, and a noticeable gap formed within their formation.

"Excellent shot, Commander." The captain of the Atlesian Cruiser Perseus said over the Command Channel.

"I'm certainly well-practiced." She cockily replied. "What's the latest report from the wall?"

There was a momentary pause as the Perseus launched a volley of missiles to cover the faltering Neptune, before the captain was able to speak again. "There's a breach on the western half, we've taken heavy losses, we can't hold for much longer."

Cordovin bit back a curse as she pondered her options, and realized that if they were going to hold the line until Ironwood arrived with the UNSC, she would need to move into the thick of the action. "I understand, tell them I'm on my way!"

The Colossus was not exactly built with maneuvering in urban environments in mind, as it was meant to wade within the water of Argus, not to venture into the city itself. Nonetheless, the main street was barely wide enough for her to walk down, as long as she kept the arms of the mech raised above the buildings and her legs close together.

_If we survive this, Argus is going to take years to recover…_ Cordovin realized, before her distracted train of thought was interrupted by an ambitious Manticore that attempted to crash itself into her. Rather than waste the effort trying to shoot it down, she allowed it to impact on her hull, where it was fried to a crisp as it passed cleanly through the hard-light shielding.

As she moved, she began to take shots at the clusters of Grimm that she could spot. In particular, she used up most of her missiles in a massive spread in an attempt to assist the pilots in the sky, acutely aware that they were overwhelmingly outmatched. They were also one of the only things besides the Huntsmen on the ground that could hope to protect the Colossus from its biggest weakness, smaller Grimm in the wrong place.

"Begone you insolent weaklings!" Cordovin commanded as she used the right leg of the Colossus to simply step on a trio of Boarbatusks that were attempting to grind their way through her armor. Although it was somewhat troubling to see that they had progressed so deep into the city, Cordovin would ensure that no more Grimm survived to join them.

Finally, she reached a position from which she could directly observe the wall, and discovered that it was already being abandoned. Huntsman and soldiers alike fought a fighting retreat as the Grimm pursued them into the outskirts of Argus. Seeing that her forces were in serious danger of being wiped out, Cordovin leapt forward, placing herself between the vast swaths of Grimm and her subordinates.

"Come and get me!" She taunted over the loudspeakers, before unleashing a series of truly devastating shots from her dust cannon into the tightly-packed Grimm. Fireballs, shards of ice, spiky fragments of rock, and hurricanes of wind combined to form an impenetrable wall of death that no Grimm could dare hope to pass through. The barrage was so great that the Grimm began to actively back away from her in fear.

_They cannot dare hope to combat the might of Atlas, the might of me!_ Cordovin thought as the adrenaline rushed to her head and she continued to fire at those that fled.

But her good fortune would not last long, while the Grimm on the ground were forced back, the Grimm in the air identified her as an opportune target. Fireball after fireball battered at her shields, launched from Manticores and Sphinxes while the Nevermores came around to deliver a devastating volley of their razor-sharp feathers.

"Commander, get out of there!" The captain of the Perseus insisted. "We can't cover you when you're that far from the base!"

She didn't bother responding, she knew that she could take them on her own, at least long enough to buy time for reinforcements. She began to return fire on the airborne Grimm, vaporizing a massive Nevermore that likely would have finished off her shields and put a feather through her cockpit. But with her cannon aimed skywards, the Larger land-based Grimm were free to advance, and they too had decided to try to attack her.

_Damn it, there's too many!_ Cordovin thought. Rather than redirect her cannon fire, which would open her up to air attack, she opted to enable the piercing drill built into her other arm. The Colossus wasn't built to operate all of its weapon systems at once, even in an emergency, but she needed the firepower.

She aimed her final missile pod into the sky, locked onto a small swarm of Nevermores, and banished them from existence in a hail of fire. On the ground, a Goliath made the critical mistake of trying to charge her and knock her off balance, she ground her drill into the beast's forehead for its troubles, and the ancient Grimm was quickly vanquished.

By now, smaller Ursas and Beowolves were clawing and biting at her feet, forcing her to stomp them to keep her lower shields intact. But as warning klaxons started to blare and the hydraulics began to vent steam as they failed, Cordovin knew that the Colossus could not take much more. She brought the drill to bear on the smaller Grimm around her with devastating results as she fired the last of her cannon's ammunition skyward.

"Commander, your systems are failing, you need to retreat!" One of her subordinates shouted in her ear, but now, she could not retreat even if she wanted to. Her shields finally cracked as a smaller Goliath rammed into one of her legs, its tusks penetrating the plating and damaging the servos that gave it mobility.

_Goddamnit Ironwood, where are you?! _She angrily thought, although the monitor that would've told her how long it would take for help to arrive was now snapped off, presumably from the force of one of the larger hits that she had taken.

"Warning, critical power surge imminent, eject immediately!" The A.I of the Colossus commanded, and Cordovin knew better than to ignore that warning.

With a heavy heart, she punched in the code to vent all of the coolant in the Dust reactor, dooming the Colossus to a fiery death.

"Goodbye… old friend." She said as she patted the arms of the command seat in a reassuring manner, before activating the escape protocol, and engaging her ejector seat.

The head of the Colossus opened up, and Cordovin's control seat launched her hundreds of feet into the air as her mech exploded in a spectacular multicolored fireball, taking all of the nearby Grimm with it. It was hard to watch, but it was also impossible to tear her eyes away, even as the parachute deployed as she slowly glided her way back towards friendly forces. Her sorrowful attitude was interrupted as a griffon buzzed below, missing her parachute by mere inches.

Suddenly, she was consciously aware of every Grimm around her, and the explosions of friendly munitions inside of their swarms and flocks. She briefly pondered the possibility of cutting her parachute away, and if she would survive the fall. But the ongoing fight between Huntsmen and the Grimm beneath her would probably claim her life, especially with how badly her Aura would be depleted by the fall.

Cordovin sat in her detached ejector seat as it slowly descended, a sense of paralyzing helplessness overtaking her. But even with nothing she could do, her defiant fury did not leave her heart, even as she watched the battle begin to turn for the worst.

In the distance before her, the Cruiser Neptune fell to the ground, with a massive Nevermore still clinging to its hull as it tore the power systems out of the ship one by one. The Neptune lost power halfway down and crashed down onto the beaches of Argus. Cordovin could only hope that it had not crushed anyone on impact, and that some of the crew may have survived. Her two sister ships desperately fought off a swarm of Grimm around them, but most of their missiles were either spent or still needed to be reloaded.

From the air, it was readily apparent that her forces were rapidly tiring, and that before long, the Grimm would storm the city. The forces on the ground did not falter, but by now, Cordovin's birds-eye view was starting to become muddled by gunsmoke and explosions.

_I will not lose this battle, I cannot!_ Cordovin thought in anger.

As if to prove that things could always get worse, a giant Nevermore spotted her gliding towards the ground and adjusted its course to strike her on the way down. As she quickly ran over her options of how she could respond, perhaps even escape entirely, the Nevermore dove faster and faster. But before it could strike her, it was intercepted by some barely-glimpsed object and exploded in a furious light.

Cordovin's ears were assaulted by the most deafening thunderclap that she had ever heard. It was so loud that she could feel part of her Aura be spent in defense of her ears, and even still, she could hear a harsh ringing. The fireball that had engulfed the Nevermore left nothing but smoke in its wake as dozens more missiles screamed through the air, and gave a hint as to where the blast had come from.

_No missile flies that fast... _Cordovin skeptically thought, before the eight aircraft that launched them flew overhead, leaving a sonic boom in their wake.

Her eyebrows raised in surprise as she watched them thunder past her, tearing swaths of Grimm out of the sky like a formation of technological monsters. The brilliant golden tracers of their projectiles left brilliant streams of light in the sky that were nothing short of awe-inspiring as even the largest Grimm were felled by them. For what had to be the first in a very long time, Cordovin was left utterly speechless as they flew at impossible speeds and pulled away to turn around and attack once more.

She was brought back into reality as her parachute drifted her into the rear of her friendly battle line, where she was quickly cut free by two of her soldiers. "Ma'am, are you okay?"

"Don't worry about me gentlemen, it's going to take more than that to kill me!" She confidently said, her demeanor utterly unaffected. "Lead me to the Command Center, I need to get in contact with General Ironwood!"

"Right this way!" He replied as he led her down one of Argus's many sidestreets.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 1409 Local Time, 2552**

Waiting was the most agonizing part of any battle. They could last days, weeks, or only minutes, and ultimately, there was no way to definitively predict how long a fight would continue. The last twenty-nine minutes had been brutal as all Richard could do was listen to the fighting through the CCTS, getting frequent updates from Curie.

When Voodoo Squadron arrived in the skies, the voices of his pilots joined those of the defenders, and it seemed that they had arrived just in time to save two of Atlas's Airships from destruction. Regrettably, they could not save the third, a ship called the Neptune, nor could they save Commander Cordovin's Colossus. Thankfully, the Atlesian Commander was still alive thanks to a timely ejection, and Richard could hear her complaining to Ironwood from the communications terminal.

"Sir, we're about fifty kilometers out, I'm beginning deceleration." Williams reported as the ship shuddered, even if they had never left the atmosphere, the forces being exerted upon the ship were immense.

"Good, let me know when it's safe to launch our birds." Richard replied. Most of the Dominion's strike craft were meant for combat in a planet's atmosphere, meaning they could not be launched so high up.

But there were some that did not require an atmosphere to properly operate, such as the Pelican, and there was no sense clogging the hangars with something that could begin its descent alongside the Dominion. "Lieutenant Bradford, give the Pelicans the order to launch and begin their descent."

"Aye Sir." Bradford confirmed. He quickly relayed the order, and turned back to Richard. "Sir, pilots are requesting landing sites."

Richard turned to the communications console. "General?"

Ironwood quickly confirmed something with Cordovin before offering an answer. "The Atlesian Base is your best bet, but most of the streets to the North should be wide enough for your dropships to land."

"There's also a few city parks that should be clear enough, provided your ships can fit in them." Cordovin added.

Bradford nodded and relayed the instructions. The Squad Leaders of the Marines already had their orders, and the Pilots would also be made well aware, which meant that Richard could focus on other, more direct solutions to the horde of Grimm outside the city.

_Clark is a capable leader, and Jorge is a Spartan for crying out loud, I'm sure they don't need you leaning over their shoulder and breathing down their necks._ Richard's cynical side spoke, before he banished the voice from his mind.

"Lieutenant Gage, what's the status of the Grimm outside the city walls?" Richard asked.

Gage ran a quick scan with his equipment, and produced an answer. "There's... a substantial Grimm presence outside of the city's fortifications. They're outside of the range of most of Argus's defenders… but not us."

A confident grin slowly emerged on Richard's face, they were no longer helpless to assist. "I understand. Lieutenant Williams, steady our descent."

"Aye Sir!" Williams confirmed, as the RCS thrusters of the Dominion did their best to level out the rapid, but controlled descent of the Dominion.

Richard turned to face Commander Cordovin on the primary monitor of the comms terminal, the defenders would probably need a warning of what was to come. "Commander, you may wish to advise your men to cover their ears, this will be… loud."

Although she seemed skeptical, she nodded her head anyway, before seemingly passing the instruction along to her subordinates.

Richard took one final look at the holographic display, which displayed a representation of their descent. He waited for several seconds before they arrived within the firing range that Richard had in mind. He withdrew his datapad, and ran some quick calculations as to whether or not his plan would actually work, thankfully, with some silent assistance from Curie, it was.

"Lieutenant Gage, order all Ventral batteries to load kinetic packages, charge to half power, then fire at any target more than one kilometer from Argus." Richard instructed, triple-checking his math with the help of his datapad as he spoke.

"Aye Sir!" Gage confirmed, before relaying the orders to the gunnery crews.

Ironwood raised an eyebrow. "Your secondary cannons can fire that far?"

"Absolutely, although normally they're not meant to make a forty kilometer shot in the atmosphere. That's why we aren't firing too close to Argus so that we can avoid friendly fire in the event that we overestimate our accuracy." Richard answered.

Ironwood seemed understandably a bit worried, even suspicious. "Are you sure that you won't hit Argus?"

"Our spread deviation is only seven-hundred and thirty-five meters, General." Curie quickly interjected. "The odds of us hitting Argus are practically zero. I could show you the mathematics involved if you would like to examine them yourself."

There was an awkward moment of silence where Richard wasn't entirely sure how Ironwood would respond, but eventually, he nodded. "No Curie, that shouldn't be necessary."

Richard gave him a grateful nod. "Believe me, if there was a chance we would hit Argus, we wouldn't be firing at this range in the first place."

_It's also why we aren't using the Trebuchets, as useful as they would be, I don't trust their targeting computers one bit._ Richard thought, shuddering at the damage that even a single missile of that kind would do to Argus. It wouldn't be a defense at that point, it would be a rescue operation for the survivors.

It took around a minute for the firing preparations to be completed as the Dominion continued its descent, which forced the guns to be constantly adjusting. During the momentary wait, Richard ordered the remaining dropships to launch as they neared the tangible atmosphere of Remnant, consisting of the heavier Albatrosses and the cargo carrying Darters, only now, they were loaded with Marines.

"Gun captains report firing solutions are acquired!" Gage reported. "Estimate about thirty seconds until we lose our window!"

Richard understood they would need to fire quickly, or be forced to calculate their shots once more. "Fire."

**Argus, Forward Command Center**

**October 15th, 1413 Local Time, 2552**

It turned out that the Command Center that was responsible for managing Argus's border defenses had been wiped out. Its personnel had been slaughtered and an explosive was detonated inside, ruining all of the computers. While Cordovin had obviously ensured that the automated gun turrets were still usable thanks to backup systems, the location was still compromised, and a new Command Center was needed. Thankfully, her officers had already taken the liberty of selecting one, even if it had some minor faults.

_They could've picked any building with a Counter that I can actually see over, but no, pick the damn donut shop…_ Cordovin grumpily thought, but a repositioned chair sorted that issue out quickly. The building itself was actually ideal for being commandeered for military uses, its rooftop made a good place to post snipers, and its concrete construction would offer some defense against Grimm.

"Commander, the UNSC has launched their airships, they should be here any minute!" One of her Lieutenants stated.

"About time…" Cordovin said, before recognizing that none of the alien soldiers would know anything about Argus and its terrain. "I want a Specialist to act as a guide for each of their units." Cordovin instructed.

There was a hint of hesitation in the man's reaction. "We're uh, a bit short on available Specialist units, perhaps the local Huntsmen-"

"Recall what Specialists you have to!" Cordovin instructed, placing an extra emphasis on ensuring that Atlesian personnel would be the ones working alongside the UNSC.

_The Huntsmen have their uses, never let that go unsaid, but I will not allow them to take away from this opportunity to show Atlas's greatness!_ Cordovin thought. _Besides, it's not like your average Huntsmen carries a radio set..._

As the Lieutenant grabbed a radio to issue the order, a massive explosion unlike anything Cordovin had ever heard sounded in the distance, causing the man to drop the radio in surprise. The rest of the Command Staff were similarly stunned.

"What in the-" Cordovin began to say before another blast cut her off. She walked outside to see what was going on, joined by a few of her officers.

Although she could not see the blasts, she heard dozens more, all coming from beyond Argus's wall, and Cordovin quickly realized what was happening, the UNSC starship must've been firing some sort of heavy artillery at the Grimm from high up in the sky.

She looked up, expecting to see a massive UNSC vessel alongside her airships, but only saw a handful of their smaller craft in the air, dogfighting with a dozen times their number of Grimm. But then she saw it, a gigantic black mass seemingly falling out of the sky, before quickly decelerating its descent and coming to a hover above everything else on the battlefield.

_Magnificent…_ Cordovin thought as a large wave of air hit the city, blowing debris, garbage, and a harsh breeze in practically every direction as the Dominion settled around a kilometer in the air.

Then the rest of the Dominion's guns opened fire, tearing apart Grimm wherever they could be found, and suddenly, the battle didn't seem so unwinnable.


	47. Chapter 47

**Beacon Academy**

**October 15th, 1018 Local Time, 2552**

It didn't take long for the news from Argus to go public on the CCTS. Classes at Beacon were cancelled for the rest of the day, and the students were warned that similar Grimm attacks might occur at Vale, which did nothing to ease their worries. Team RWBY, much like many of the other students, picked a cafeteria table to sit at as they watched the situation develop on their scrolls.

Ruby watched as dozens of images, videos, and text posts plastered everywhere on the CCTS, some of which were quickly taken down by the network admins. One particular image had been taken from the military base at Argus, and showed the massive UNSC Dominion firing down at some unseen enemy in the city.

"This is terrible…" Blake commented. Although the statement was fairly self-evident, nobody spoke up to point that out, they were too busy watching the carnage unfold.

"Is… is Winter in there somewhere?" Weiss rhetorically asked. "She won't answer any of my calls…"

"She's probably just busy kicking butt!" Yang tried to offer some reassurance, but Ruby could see the doubt in her eyes.

In all of Ruby's life, she'd never seen something like this. The only battle that she could think of that came anywhere near the same scale was the Siege of Mountain Glenn, and that had ended in disaster. She remained silent as she swiped through image after image of alien aircraft in the sky, dogfighting with Nevermores, and gigantic alien tanks that would've normally inspired excitement in her, now being used to fend off Goliaths and Deathstalkers.

Through all of it, she kept looking for Ben's familiar armor, but she couldn't find him anywhere. She had sent a message to Curie asking if they were okay, but she hadn't replied.

"Ruby?" Yang asked, her voice rich with concern.

"Yeah?" Ruby replied, trying to keep the dejection out of her voice.

"It's okay, it's going to be okay…" Yang said, in what was no doubt meant to be a reassuring manner, but it only reinforced Ruby's worries.

Ruby took a deep breath and exhaled. "I just wish we could do something, I feel so helpless!"

"Don't worry Ruby, if half of the things people are saying about the UNSC are true, they can win this battle, especially with Atlas on their side." Weiss said, her distinct confidence helping to alleviate Ruby's worries somewhat.

And yet, she couldn't help but wonder just what Argus would look like when the battle was over, and whether or not her friends would survive to see it.

**Argus Airspace**

**October 15th, 1420 Local Time, 2552**

The passenger bay shook and swayed as Fireball maneuvered around friend and foe alike. In the glow of the amber ready lights, Onyx Team made their final preparations. Ben loaded his rifle as the rest of the squad prepared their weapons for action, while Mags manipulated her cannon in a manner that apparently reloaded it. She'd insisted on coming along, arguing that it was her duty as a Huntress.

_I suppose that's true, and we could use someone with a more extensive knowledge of Grimm on the team._ Ben thought, noting that they were already running dangerously low on personnel.

"Thirty seconds till touchdown, lock and load Marines!" Fireball called over the radio.

Only a few seconds later, Ben heard the loud and distinct sound of multiple Anvil-II Missiles leaving their tubes from the wing-mounted launchers of Fireball's Pelican. Although he could see the carnage, it wasn't hard to imagine what a weapon like that would do to Grimm as the reverberating shockwaves of the impacts sent shudders throughout the Pelican's hull.

The dropship lurched beneath them as Fireball finished decelerating, before spinning them around and opening the rear hatch. Ben found it difficult to see much of anything outside, except the arcid black smoke that now filled the air where the Grimm had once stood.

"This is your stop gentlemen, give em' hell!" She said with a great deal of enthusiasm.

Ben leapt out of the dropship without hesitation, quickly followed the rest of Onyx Team, before Fireball sped away. The smoke rapidly dispelled from the force of Fireball's thrusters, revealing that she had all but obliterated a city park, although she had also killed every single Grimm on the premises. Even still, the squad double-checked that the area was secure before regrouping.

The park was quaint, small, and space-efficient, barely big enough to land a Pelican in. What decorations and plants were left were riddled with shrapnel, and there was no sign of any people, living or dead.

_Hopefully, they evacuated safely._ Ben thought, if nothing else, Remnant apparently had fairly well-made evacuation drills.

"Spread out everyone!" Jorge shouted. "Mags, Ben, take point!"

"Yes Sir!" Ben replied.

"Wouldn't dream of doing it any other way…" Mags replied as she readied Tasman. No matter how many times he had seen her wield it, it would likely never cease to surprise him.

With only a single Company of Marines available to be deployed, Clark and Jorge had elected to split up their forces on landing. Each squad would have their objectives to complete once they landed, and once those were done, they would reform into a single concentrated force at the wall, pushing the Grimm back in the process.

Onyx Team, armed with heavy weapons and well-trained personnel, was assigned the unenviable task of killing an extremely dangerous high-value target. Curie had detected a previously undiscovered type of Grimm, which her hastily-assembled briefing had described as a large, heavily-armored lizard, not dissimilar to that of the ancient Tyrannosaurus-Rex. Appropriately, Curie had given it the designation "Tyrant."

_If it's anything like the last Grimm lizard we fought, this shouldn't be an issue._ Ben thought. Still, if it demanded the presence of all of Onyx Team, it must've been a threat.

In a loosely-kept, wide-wedge formation, Onyx Team moved out of the park and into one of the several long, sloped streets that ran through Argus. Some sort of vehicle lay abandoned in the middle of the streets, resembling a mix between a small rail-train and some sort of old car. Up the road, gunfire and the shouting of orders could be heard, along with the uproar of Grimm.

"Where are all the people?" Nathan asked as he examined the lifeless streets.

"Hiding or evacuated, stay focused." Jorge answered. "Command is too busy with other issues to find that Tyrant, so we've got to track it down ourselves."

Ben didn't say anything, but hearing that made him somewhat uncomfortable. If all of the Command Staff were busy, they must've been getting overwhelmed as they tried to respond to everything. Still, the Dominion and her airwings flew reassuringly overhead, rapidly turning the battle in the air on its head.

Mags looked over her shoulder to speak with them. "The Atlesians might have a good idea of where to look, maybe we should link up with them?"

"That's as good a place as any to start." Jorge replied.

The squad continued to move up the road before they began to find bodies. Most of them belonged to the ruined carcasses of Atlesian Knights, but a handful of fallen civilians and the soldiers who had defended them were dotted amongst the husks of machinery. Although they were technically behind the frontline that the Atlesians had established, it wasn't unreasonable to assume that some Grimm had broken through. Ben's assumption was proven correct as he spotted the familiar outline of an Ursa in an alleyway ahead of them.

"Bears!" Ben shouted. Although the Ursas had technically been designated by Huntsmen with their own name, Ben opted to call out something that all of his squad would be familiar with.

Curiously, they were apparently moving as part of a pack, although unlike the Ursas that Ben had fought in Mantle, these were moving as part of a larger formation. There must've been half a dozen of them, and in unison, they charged towards Onyx Team.

"Weapons free!" Jorge ordered.

A stream of gunfire emerged from every Marine present, with Mags and Nathan quickly picking off the toughest looking Ursas. In only a few short seconds of fighting, the Grimm were all killed.

"Huh, I've seen Grunts survive longer than that." Nathan commented. "You think these ones were just a bit frail?"

Before anyone could respond to him, Ben heard the sounds of rapid, inhuman footsteps, and harsh, animalistic breathing. His gut churned with a sense of dread as he eyed the rooftops around them. Jorge tensed up too, his experience telling him immediately what was about to happen.

"Ambush!" Jorge shouted as Beowolves and Creeps poured out of the alleyways around them. From the neighboring rooftops, Griffons and smaller bat-like Grimm dove upon the team.

Ben and Jorge were the only ones who were able to react in time to kill any of the Grimm, and while Jorge focused on stopping what Grimm on the ground he could, Ben aimed his rifle upwards and exhausted an entire magazine into the airborne Grimm, killing a few of them, but there were simply too many. With the range between the two forces no longer a factor, as they were haphazardly mashed together, a brutal close-quarters fight ensued.

"Ben!" Nathan shouted in warning while Ben reloaded, but was too late, as a Beowolf tackled him from behind. Having not seen it coming, Ben was knocked to the ground, but reacted quickly, and grabbed the monster by the throat, dragging it with him.

His shields sputtered and cracked as the savage beast tore away at them with its claws. Ben waited for the right moment, pulled back his free hand, and punched it in the muzzle with so much strength that the creature's neck snapped with the sudden force. Another Beowolf tried to pounce on him, but Ben managed to grab its head with both arms and snap its skull in half. A third met a similar fate before Ben had finally gained a moment of relative safety.

Ben returned to a kneeling stance and saw that the rest of his squad was faring equally poorly. Only Mags seemed to be doing well, as she and Jorge used the immense mass of their heavy weapons to beat Grimm of all types to death.

With no Grimm actively attacking him, Ben was in a prime position to help his squad. Rather than wasting precious seconds reloading, he drew his plasma rifle, held it in both hands, and took aim.

His first target was a pair of the bat-like Grimm harassing Nathan, which Ben blasted out of the air with two precise shots. Next, a boarbatusk that was in a brutal melee with Kowalski. Despite its heavy armor, the Grimm's bone-like plating wasn't enough to dispel the bolts of plasma that melted through its midsection. Kerry and Peggy were each fighting off an Ursa at close-range, and with Ben's help, both of the Grimm dropped dead in a matter of moments. His newly-liberated teammates focused their efforts on keeping even more Grimm from dogpiling on them while Ben returned his focus to the fight at large.

After performing a quick headcount, Ben noticed that they were missing an ODST, Meadows. An urgent visual sweep revealed no-sign of the Helljumper, but confirmed that they were now knee-deep in more Grimm. Reluctantly, Ben focused his efforts on the Grimm trying to overrun the rest of his teammates, eliminating half a dozen more with surgical precision, before he was knocked off of his feet once again.

Ben didn't get a good look at what kind of Grimm had tackled him and was biting away at his helmet's shield, but even with no visual, he aimed the muzzle of his plasma rifle at where he best-guessed it's head was, and fired.

His shot must've hit it's mark, because the Grimm died without so much as a whimper. By now, most of the ODSTs had also swapped to their plasma weapons, apparently deciding that they were in a desperate enough situation to warrant their usage. Ben returned to his feet and kept firing alongside them, stopping anything that got too close.

"Where the hell did all of these things come from?!" Nathan asked as he fired away

"Where's the Sergeant?!" Jorge asked, apparently he had also noticed that Meadows was missing.

Ben quickly swapped to a direct channel to speak with Jorge over the din of the battle. "I lost track of him after we got mobbed. Permission to break off and have a look?"

"Denied, stay with the team!" Jorge replied, his voice thick with reluctance.

As much as Ben wanted to push his way out of the fight and try to find their missing man, Jorge was right. One of the most crucial rules of small unit tactics was to never separate from your team, no matter what. And while Meadows likely hadn't had much choice in the matter, that was not an excuse for Ben to weaken the squad even further by leaving.

_I just hope he's still alive for us to help him._ Ben thought, but he did not deviate his attention from the battle at hand.

Once all of the Helljumpers had recovered and re-organized, the Grimm quickly found themselves getting killed long before they could strike at Onyx Team. Jorge and Mags were invaluable, as their weapons offered exceptional suppressive capabilities. The rest of the ODSTs, as well as Ben, focused their efforts on any of the Grimm that tried to get around their fields of fire.

Once the situation became more manageable, Ben holstered his plasma rifle and returned to using his assault rifle, hoping to avoid using the alien weapon as much as he could. After around a dozen more Grimm were shredded, the rest must've recognized the impossibility of victory, and began to retreat. None of them succeeded, they were cut down in a hail of bullets and plasma.

As Onyx Team caught their breath, Ben heard someone scream from one of the alleyways that the Grimm had emerged from. Unhindered by heavy weapons and with the power of Mjolnir behind him, Ben was able to respond the quickest. He sprinted down the alleyway at speeds most that even Huntsmen would've considered impossible, rounded a corner, and spotted the silhouette of an Ursa Major. Ben blasted it apart with a long burst from his Assault Rifle with no hesitation.

As the Grimm disappeared, the form of an ODST lying on their back on the concrete was visible behind the rapidly-clearing black smoke. Judging from the pained screams the trooper was giving off, his identity was confirmed. It was Meadows. His weapons were scattered and far from his reach, likely having been knocked from his hands. The blood that Ben could see clearly showed that Meadows was injured, and judging by his panicked breathing and the quantity of the blood, he must've been hurt quite badly. Ben was at his side and digging into one of his storage pouches for a first-aid kit in the blink of an eye.

"Meadows, Meadows stay calm!" Ben instructed. Even though he was likely still panicking, Meadows was able to stay still enough for Ben to get a better look at him. Ben heard the footfalls of his squad as they followed closely behind him.

Ben examined Meadows for the wound and quickly realized what was wrong. The Ursa must've gotten a good bite in on his left leg, and he was bleeding profusely.

"Easy there, I've got it." Ben reassured the injured Helljumper as he set to work. As Ben started working on applying a tourniquet to Meadows's leg, he heard heavy footsteps behind him. It was a tricky thing, applying a tourniquet. Thirty seconds, that's all the time you had to get it done. After that, the chances of survival began to drop quickly.

You never really knew how short thirty seconds was until it was a matter of life and death. Luckily for them both, Spartan training was thorough, and he had the tourniquet on in twenty.

"What happened?" Jorge asked as he leaned in to get a look at the wound.

Meadows was in no condition to answer, so Ben spoke up instead. "I'm not sure how he got isolated, but I think he got this from an Ursa."

"What about his Aura?" Nathan asked.

"A bite from an Ursa Major could have torn his leg off, and without proper training… he's lucky to get away with what he has!" Mags replied.

Ben didn't pause to consider the possibilities of how exactly Meadows had gotten wounded, in his opinion, that didn't really matter. While his squad debated the possibilities and kept watch for any further Grimm, Ben stopped Meadow's wound from bleeding any more than it had. Still, something was wrong with the bone, which was a far more pressing matter. It didn't seem to be snapped as Nathan's had been, rather it might've been fractured. Either way, it was out of Ben's field of expertise.

"Can you walk?" Ben asked.

"Agh… I-I th… N-no.… ." Meadows answered in between pained breaths.

Ben turned to face Jorge, hoping for a bit of guidance. Jorge knelt down to Meadow's level and looked into his visor. "Hang tight Sergeant, we'll get you out of here. Ben, see if you can splint his leg, we'll have to move him."

"Yes Sir." Ben said, pulling one of the deployable splints from his first aid kit before beginning to affix it.

"Sir, I think there's a friendly unit up the street from us, some Atlesian troops." Nathan interjected. "If we could get him there, they might be able to direct us towards the nearest Triage Station."

Jorge retrieved his weapon as he looked up into the air, seemingly inspecting the tiny section of the air-battle that was visible. Sabres and Atlesian Airships alike flew formation as they carved chunks out of Grimm swarms. "It's a better idea than trying to call for a Pelican in all of that. Mags, take point. Ben, grab Meadows and his weapons."

"Aye Sir." Mags said.

"Yes Sir." Ben responded. He slung Meadow's Spartan Laser over his back and his SMG to one of the magnetic holsters on his hip, before reaching down and grabbing the wounded Helljumper in a fireman's carry.

"Just once… I'd like to get through a mission… without getting injured." Meadows complained in between breaths.

"Try not to move." Ben said in response, following behind the rest of Onyx Team as they moved out of the alleyway.

_This mission's going great already…_ Ben thought, his optimism positively soured.

**UNSC Dominion, Starboard Armory**

**October 15th, 1430 Local Time, 2552**

It was hard for Fairfire to watch everyone leave without her, knowing that they were better off without her hurt her pride more than anything that had happened so far. But even while she wasn't cleared for field duty, that didn't mean that she couldn't help out in other ways. Still, being left with the job of preparing resupply packages for the men on the ground, rather than fighting alongside them, was nothing short of humiliating.

_To hell with this damn Semblance, to hell with Aura, I just want to go back!_ She thought. _Just me, my team, the Covenant, and a shotgun, that's all I needed in life!_

Her thoughts were interrupted as someone that she had not expected to see walked into the Armory.

"Specialist Schnee?" Fairfire said, not understanding why she was still aboard, and not down on the ground. She was clearly already equipped and looked quite anxious.

"Grab your equipment, Corporal." Winter instructed, and as if she could read Fairfire's mind, quickly added another statement. "Don't ask questions, I'll inform you as you go, but we're needed for a special assignment."

After a moment of being stunned by such a sudden shift in events, Fairfire gave a staunch nod, and began to assemble her equipment. Her red-accented ODST armor was still there waiting for her, and she couldn't help but feel relieved as she donned the helmet once more.

_If the world wants to give me another chance, I won't complain._ Fairfire thought as she listened to Winter explain what was needed of her.

"The main Radar assembly outside of Argus was deliberately sabotaged, our goal is to move in and secure the site for later investigation." Winter explained. "The Grimm tend to contaminate crime sites, so we can't let that happen."

Fairfire paused. "We'll be going outside of Argus, by ourselves?"

"Most of the Grimm are being attracted to the city, we should be safe from any larger hordes." Winter said before a smug smirk emerged on her face. "I thought that ODSTs liked a good challenge?"

In an instant, any doubt vanished from Fairfire's mind, replaced with a competitive sense of pride in the title she had earned. She hastily assembled her armor, grabbed her shotgun, and a few other pieces of essential equipment, before being led out of the armory by Winter.

"Are you sure you want me to come with you?" Fairfire asked, she didn't want Winter getting into trouble. "I still haven't figured out how to control my Semblance…"

Winter didn't even turn to face her as she answered. "I am well aware of the potential risks, but this mission might just teach you a thing or two about your Semblance."

Fairfire was taken slightly aback by Winter's words, and she was quickly able to decipher her friend's intentions. "You think live combat is going to trigger my Semblance? That's a big risk!"

"Life is full of risks Corporal Fairfire, as a soldier, you should know that." Winter replied.

Her words were slightly reassuring, but Fairfire had one last doubt that continued to bother her. "What if I try to do something… dangerous?"

"Then I will disable you, nonlethally." Winter answered, with a chilling lack of emotion. "Didn't I ask you not to ask questions?"

"I uh…" Fairfire responded, but quickly realized that she had no good answer.

Winter turned to her with a look of sympathy. "Save yourself the trouble Corporal, focus on the mission."

Fairfire nodded sharply. "Right!"

The two of them boarded the sideskirts of a Hornet once they arrived in the Starboard Hangar. Transporting two people would hardly be worth using the rare and valuable Pelicans when a Hornet could do the same thing.

As the attack craft soared through the sky, Fairfire couldn't help but smile behind her visor. Despite only having a thin plate of armor, a handrail, and magnetic boots between her and a morbid watery grave, she felt better than she had in days.

**Salem's Castle**

**October 15th, 1842 Local Time, 2552**

Most Grimm couldn't act as capable eyes and ears for Salem, and as a result, she had to use those specific Grimm that could very carefully. Annoyingly, the UNSC had blown a great amount of them apart with a high-altitude bombardment that neither she nor Doctor Watts had predicted, and avoiding the watchful eyes of their ship's cannons was difficult, but not impossible.

As a whole, her plan to lure the UNSC into a large battle had gone excellently. As Watts had predicted, their starship was far faster than any airship, and so they had arrived before any other reinforcements. And just like she had hoped, they had committed effectively all of their known forces into a battle where they were outnumbered, all in the effort to save Argus. Salem was now in a perfect place to cripple their capabilities, and deliver Atlas a harsh blow as well.

_Once these pawns are out of my way, I can focus on the real threat to my plans, Ozpin._ She thought, watching with no small amount of irritation as the UNSC's starfighters performed another attack upon her forces. _Their speed is certainly impressive, I will have to develop something else to even think about killing those._

Doctor Watts stood beside her, watching the battle through the eyes of half a dozen Seers, which were positioned in such a manner that killing all of them would be very difficult. Although the Doctor lacked the same "connection" that she had to the Grimm, he could still keep a close eye on developments through the orbs of the Seers.

"When do you suppose we spring the trap?" Watts finally asked, breaking the long silence.

"Only once they have committed to a counterattack." Salem simply answered. "Right now, we will let them believe this is all we have in store for them."

Watts raised an eyebrow as he focused his attention on the defenders. "With so few men? They would have to be suicidal to attempt that! Surely they would be smart enough to wait for reinforcements!"

"Perhaps." Salem replied. "Or perhaps… they are used to another kind of war."

Watts sighed with disapproval. "Is this about what that cowardly moron has been telling you?"

_I can't say I entirely disagree with his sentiment._ Salem thought, but was still annoyed with how flagrantly Watts doubted her capabilities. "He has something that you don't, Doctor. Whereas you're left with guesswork, he has the UNSC convinced that he's a loyal lapdog, and they're happy to share some tactical details with him."

Watts sneered at her words. "They're going to find him out eventually. If they could find out the Schnees' dirty laundry so quickly, they could do it again."

"Oh, I don't doubt that." Salem said. "But until that time comes, we will wring Lionheart for all that he is worth."

Watts snickered, before returning his attention to the battle, and adopting a look of curiosity. "Don't mistake my asking for concern, but where is Tyrian in all of this?"

"He should be dealing with the last of Argus's loose ends." Salem cryptically answered.

Watts knew better than to press for a proper answer from her. "Well then, I suppose I'll keep an eye out for the next large explosion."

Salem returned her attention to the battle and was annoyed at how quickly the UNSC and Atlesians were re-organizing their forces. She could have completely overrun them, and perhaps taken down a few dozen Huntsmen in the process. But the UNSC had arrived even sooner than Watts had estimated them to, and had managed to stop the situation from getting any worse.

The civilians who had fled to the shoreline were not helping, their pungent fear was interfering with Salem's ability to effectively control the Grimm, a common problem that she had previously encountered. Normally, her lack of control was so grand that she simply didn't bother with using Grimm to accomplish any of her goals in areas where large settlements were concerned, humans and other pawns tended to work better for that purpose. While not a colossal city, Argus had a sizable population, and it was interfering with her ability to command the Grimm.

Reflecting on her strategy, it was perhaps not as flawless as she had thought. The UNSC's warship was even more of a menace than she had expected, ruthlessly striking down dozens of Grimm every second. With everything unfolding the way that it was, she was starting to understand that there was a serious risk that she would fail to accomplish her goal.

But even without everything in her favor, Salem was not about to give up. Nothing, not Gods, not Aliens, not even Ozpin, would stop her from getting what she wanted. She had time on her side, she could always make more Grimm, and she could do it far faster than it would take for the UNSC to recover.

**Argus, Forward Command Center**

**October 15th, 1448 Local Time, 2552**

It took longer than expected to link up with friendly forces, but eventually, Onyx Team found themselves amongst a far-larger friendly Atlesian force close to the frontline. Squads of Marines, Atlesian Knights, and soldiers alike milled about, with the odd Huntsmen or Specialist using the relative-safety of the Command Center to catch their breath.

"I've never seen them move like this!" Ben heard one of the Huntresses say as a medic wrapped a bandage around their head. "What's the point of having a defensive line if they can just sneak through it?!"

_Sounds like Remnant is getting a harsh lesson in modern warfare._ Ben thought, but the Huntress's words chilled him more than he expected. _Although the Grimm don't use tactics, so maybe they're just finding the path of least resistance in their defenses?_

"Ben." Meadows said, shifting slightly in his arms to look at him better. "Do you have any painkillers?"

"Nothing I can give you." Ben reluctantly replied. Anything that Ben had in his first-aid kit was either designed with a Spartan's bloodstream in mind or was designed to euthanize a terminally injured soldier in the field. "Hang tight, one of the Atlesian Doctors might have something for you."

Meadows let out a weary sigh. "I appreciate the positivity."

_I'm amazed he's conscious._ Ben thought. He'd seen his fellow recruits receive similar injuries during his Spartan training and they'd been rendered totally unconscious.

"Ben, over here." Nathan called out to him. Looking around, he saw that Nathan had found a triage station, which was already occupied by multiple friendly soldiers and civilians. When Ben walked over with Meadows in hand, he was confronted by an Atlesian medic who seemed to be slightly intimidated, either by Ben or Meadows' wound.

"Lay him down here, I can have a look at him." The medic instructed. Ben carefully complied, setting Meadows down as gently as he could. "Does he have any sort of… differences that we should know about?"

It took Ben a moment to put together exactly what the Doctor was asking. "He's a normal, healthy human, no unusual attributes that you need to worry about."

Nathan softly, grimly chuckled. "Well, he's got a peanut allergy…" Ben gave Nathan a light whack on the back of the helmet. "Err, yeah… right, sorry."

"Well, in that case, do me a favor and get out of my way. If we're going to save your friend's leg, I'm going to need to get to work right away." The medic replied. If Meadows heard what the medic had said, he did not show it.

"Come along Private, let's link up with the squad." Ben said to Nathan, who responded with a curt nod, before turning to face Meadows one last time. "Stay safe, Meadows."

"Sure thing Ben, don't worry about me." Meadows replied as Ben and Nathan left the triage center.

It didn't take long to spot Jorge and the rest of the squad, who were talking with a short woman who appeared to be some sort of Atlesian Officer. As they approached, Ben could start to make out a conversation between them amid the sounds of battle around them.

"...I'm afraid I don't have much information to add in regards to your target, Lieutenant." The woman said. "But the Tyrant should still be near the Wall, along with most of the larger Grimm."

"Thank you, Commander." Jorge said. "Is there any chance we could destroy it with fire from the Dominion?"

Cordovin shook her head. "Until we can confirm that every civilian has evacuated safely, I cannot in good conscience authorize an airstrike on the wall."

Jorge nodded. "Do you know anywhere in the city that we could use to gain a good vantage point, somewhere with a clear line of sight to the wall?"

Cordovin let out a sigh of sadness. "I would have said the old clocktower if the Grimm hadn't already brought that down… Otherwise, your best chance is the apartment building on Matsu Street."

The building she pointed to was a large, seven-storey tall building that was very close to the Wall. It had clearly suffered severe damage from attacks by the Grimm, and there was a large fire on the upper storeys. Ben felt an intense dread in his stomach but disregarded it as fear, something that he was well-trained to ignore.

Ben could practically feel the reluctance from Jorge as he replied. "We'll make our way there, if you receive any updates on that Tyrant, keep us posted."

"I'll do what I can." Cordovin vaguely promised, before one of her subordinates yelled for her attention. "Good hunting, Lieutenant."

As Cordovin walked away and Onyx Team gathered around Jorge, Ben's feeling of dread intensified immensely. Deciding to take a quick glance around, he spotted nothing out of the ordinary, until he spotted a cloaked figure swiftly walking in the same direction as Cordovin. He was about to dismiss his hunch as nothing more than paranoia, when the figure's cloak brushed aside from the rear, revealing the stinger of a scorpion poised to strike at Cordovin.

"Commander!" Ben shouted in warning as he reached for his rifle, but he was only moments too slow.

The stinger of what was revealed to be a Faunus Man stabbed Cordovin in the back of the head, seemingly ignoring her Aura completely and causing her to fall to the ground. Ben was firing off a steady stream of automatic gunfire even as everyone else in the Command Center was still reacting to the sudden, brutal attack, but the assassin seemingly predicted his actions and deflected much of his fire with a pair of bladed gauntlets. Purple light shimmered and cracked where Ben's bullets struck true, but they weren't numerous enough to bring down the assassin.

"Too slow, tin can!" The man shouted with a cackle rich with lunacy. He reached for something on his belt, a grenade of some sort, before dropping it at his feet. All of Fireteam Onyx, the Atlesian soldiers, the Knight Drones, and even some Huntsmen opened fire on the man as a massive smokescreen formed around him. Before long, Ben was firing blindly, and the man was no longer visible.

Ben enabled his thermal vision, but no figure was visible amidst the heated smoke. Unsure of whether to pursue the attacker or check on Cordovin's condition, he looked to Jorge for guidance. "Sir, orders?"

"Check on the Commander!" Jorge commanded. Some of the Huntsmen and Huntresses around them broke off in pursuit of the attacker while Ben complied with Jorge's orders and rushed to where Cordovin lay. Blood was already pooling around her head, and she was completely still.

As Ben came to a stop beside Commander Cordovin, he reached for his first-aid kit, only to realize just how deep her head wound truly was. He checked her pulse just to make certain but found no heartbeat. She had been killed instantaneously.

"Anything?" Jorge asked from behind him, some Atlesian soldiers, specifically medics, had also gathered around, while the Knights and some of the Huntsmen pursued the assassin.

"Negative, she's dead." Ben answered, placing his first-aid kit back in its pouch. Atlesian medics rushed forward to take his place, as if they didn't believe what he had told them.

Jorge responded in a way that nobody around them but Ben would've understood. Spartans didn't flinch, at least not visibly, but they would sometimes move their helmet in such a way that conveyed the same feeling.

"Who the hell was that scorpion guy?!" Nathan asked. He looked down the scope of his sniper rifle in the direction that the man had run, but he must've found nothing, as he lowered his rifle after only a short survey.

"What do we do now, Sir?" Ben asked. He was hoping to keep them distracted, even with Cordovin gone, the Tyrant was still on the loose, and Cordovin's intel would become dated before too long.

Jorge recovered quickly from his shock. "Our objective is the same as before, we're going after that Tyrant. I'll let the Commander and General Ironwood know what happened, hold on a moment."

While Jorge made his report, Ben stood up and looked down at Cordovin once more. Who would be insane enough to assassinate a military commander in a situation where Atlas was barely holding their ground against the Grimm? What had to happen to someone to drive them to such a desperate, disastrous act?

"What the hell happened to her Aura?" Nathan quietly asked, looking down at Cordovin's lifeless body. "Did he just… break all of it in one go?"

"I don't know." Ben replied. "Maybe her Aura was… deficient, somehow?"

"I bet it was his Semblance." Mags suggested, a murderous look in her eyes. "It's rare, but some people can disrupt small parts of their opponent's Aura."

"That's… scary." Nathan replied. "We need to take him out if we run into him again."

Ben didn't feel a need to voice his agreement. While the UNSC forces were used to fighting without Auras and could reliably operate without them, the assassin would pose a deadly threat to Huntsmen and the soldiers from Remnant. They wouldn't be aware of their enemies Semblance, and he would be able to surprise them with a lethal strike.

"Or capture him, maybe figure out why he did it." Ben proposed.

Jorge must've finished his conversation with the Commander, because he got off of his radio and held his weapon in a more steady stance. "Cut the chatter, we're moving out."

"Right behind you Sir." Ben said, offering a subtle nod of reassurance to Jorge, who did not show any signs of receiving it.

_First Meadows gets wounded, then Commander Cordovin gets assassinated… Can this get much worse?_ Ben asked himself, but he already knew the answer to that question.


	48. Chapter 48

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 1455 Local Time, 2552**

By the standards of modern UNSC naval battles, the Battle of Argus was going quite well. In UNSC space, the Covenant tended to end major battles in a matter of hours, usually ending with all UNSC vessels destroyed or routed. But despite Richard's relatively optimistic perspective, he could tell that by Remnant standards, this battle had already been extremely bloody. The biggest giveaway was the expression that Ironwood was trying to keep off of his face, an expression of nervousness, a slight break from his normal stoicism that Richard had not expected.

Losing Cordovin to an assassin, who was presumably a Terrorist from a radical Faunus organization, given what Ironwood had told him, had been a nasty shock. Thankfully, Ironwood was available to take over commanding the forces of Atlas in her place. The Dominion's bridge offered the perfect platform from which to do so, with Curie's assistance and the Dominion's complex holographic displays, Ironwood had a grand overview of the battle and his forces. For the most part, Richard relied on him to manage the fight on the ground, who so far had yet to break out of the deadlock it had been stuck within.

Outside of the Bridge's viewport, Richard watched as the Sabres dived and dodged throughout the Grimm, never once breaking formation as they rhythmically disassembled every Grimm that had the severe misfortune to get in their way. Coilgun slugs from the Dominion joined forces with laser blasts from the Atlesian Cruisers to form a nigh-impenetrable defensive screen. What had once seemed like an untouchable mob of flying Grimm to the citizens of Argus had been reduced to a few flocks of smaller Grimm by the UNSC's unmatched air power.

_If we do find a way home, the Sabre program is getting my ringing endorsement._ Richard thought as he watched the vicious starfighters launch another volley of Medusa Missiles, turning what would have been a menacing swarm of Griffins into ash and memory.

In the distance, Richard could see smoke rising from outside of Argus, where the Dominion had used her point defense cannons in a high-altitude strike. Although he couldn't actually see the landscape, it wasn't hard to imagine that whatever had previously existed there was now gone, replaced with craters and scorched land. Just to be safe, he'd ordered a flight of the Hornets to go finish off the survivors.

"Chakra Lead reports major Grimm casualties, half of their wing is returning for rearmament." Lieutenant Chen called out, as if somehow aware of his thoughts.

"Tell them to land in the Starboard Hangar, and outfit them for Close Air Support." Richard replied, as he devised the next part of his plan.

With the skies clear, the aircraft would need to be outfitted to engage ground targets. But that would pose a challenge of its own. Even if they killed all of the Airborne Grimm, it would be difficult to effectively strike at the Grimm already in the city without hitting civilian targets.

The Covenant had been known to employ similar strategies, although Richard strongly doubted that the Grimm had intentionally planned such a maneuver. Still, the coincidence was worrying, perhaps the Grimm could sense how dangerous the aircraft were to them, and sought to use the civilians as cover knowing that the humans were reluctant to fire upon their own? Or maybe he was giving too much credit to mindless beasts. If they were attracted to negativity, then it only made sense that they would pursue the crowds of civilians when given the opportunity.

"Just bad luck I'm afraid…" Richard muttered, the pressure would be on the Marines to do most of the heavy lifting.

Still, even with those problems in place, that did not mean there was nothing that the Dominion could do to help. Even if most of her weapons were too powerful to directly use on Argus, strike craft like the Hornets and the powerful but few-in-number Sparrowhawks were purpose-built to perform precise strikes on targets that gave the ground troops trouble. Meanwhile, the larger craft like the Vultures could stop any further Grimm from infiltrating the city.

Thankfully, they had some heavy-handed help with their goals. The 3rd Armor Battalion had a Company of tanks and self-propelled weapons systems stationed on the Dominion when it had been pulled into Remnant's reality, and now more than ever before, their presence was proving to be a blessing. Argus had unfortunately not had any proper tanks of their own, relying instead on the Colossus and their airwing for defense.

"Commander." Ironwood interrupted, snapping Richard up to attention. "My men need assistance on Kettle Street, and only your Marines are in a position to respond."

Richard understood the issue, Ironwood needed authority over the Marines to manage the battle on the ground effectively. "Ensign Gillespie, inform Lieutenant Clark that he is to respond to any order from General Ironwood as if it came from me."

"Aye Sir!" He replied, hastily carrying out the order.

Still, that would only be a short-term solution, fortunately, the UNSC had a protocol in place for such a situation. "Curie, I am authorizing the emergency issuing of command credentials to General Ironwood."

There was a noticeable delay before she responded in an oddly emotionless voice. "Aye Sir."

_She has the hardest job of all of us. Presentation can be forgone under the circumstances. _Richard thought, immediately dismissing his concerns, as he himself had more pressing matters to attend to.

"There you go General, you shouldn't have any more issues with the system now." Richard said.

"Thank you, Commander." Ironwood gratefully replied, before returning his attention to the battle on the ground.

"Guns four through eight are down for emergency maintenance to their ammo mechanisms, they'll be back up momentarily." Gage interjected from the weapons console. "Guns two and ten are reporting low ammunition, it'll take time for them to reload more out of the magazine."

Richard frowned, he didn't want to see half of the Dominion's guns offline at one point in time, that would leave them open. "Order them to conserve their shots and switch to full-power firing, but not to fire upon Argus itself."

"Aye Sir." Gage replied.

The point-defense guns of the Dominion were versatile. They could fire lower-power rounds at rapid rates of fire, or fully charge their capacitors to increase stopping power, at the cost of rate of fire. While they were far stronger than the Atlesian Lasers, they could also over-penetrate their targets, and injure anyone unlucky enough to be caught on the receiving end of the blast.

_Sir Issac Newton is one deadly son of a bitch._ Richard thought, recalling something that an aging Fleet Admiral had once jokingly said to him.

Outside of the window, Richard watched as the Sabres split off their formation and began to take on the straggling Grimm one by one. The Atlesian Gunships joined in, and partook in concluding perhaps the most one-sided aerial engagement in Remnant's history.

"Now, we make our move." Richard muttered under his breath, eyeing the strategic overlay on the holotable as he put together the fine details of his plan. _While the Marines deal with the Grimm, we'll take the place of the wall, kill any Grimm who think that they have a stake in this fight. Without a steady stream of fresh Grimm, the Marines can finish the job._

Still, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness and doubt, it came with the pressures of command. The only thing he could do was lead his men well and have faith in their strength.

**Argus, Primary Radar Tower**

**October 15th, 1455 Local Time, 2552**

Normally, performing a combat landing with only two people was a suicidal venture. But with the twin rotary-cannons of a Hornet to cover their entrance, Fairfire and Winter only found smoking Grimm and a handful of wounded stragglers waiting to greet them. What had once been a full pack of Beowolves was now only four of them, two fell by Fairfire's shotgun, and the other two by Winter's sword.

Traveling by the small and maneuverable Hornet meant that they had been able to land directly within the grassy area around the Radar Tower, where the forest had been cleared. Immediately, Winter ran a quick check on the vitals of every Atlesian soldier she could find, but Fairfire could tell just by the way that they lay that it was too late to save them. It was a brutal sight, the corpses having been slash apart in a savage manner. The wounds were made seemingly at random, but still too precise to have been the work of any Grimm.

_Whoever did this is one sick fuck._ Fairfire thought, feeling a fresh wave of disgust at the brutal slaughter. Whoever had a reason to kill humanity's defenders like this, it wasn't a good one.

Through the trees and undergrowth, the sounds of battle raged from Argus. Explosions, gunfire, artillery, and the roaring of larger Grimm punctuated what must have been a hellish fight. Somewhere in that chaos, her squad was fighting without her, but with two Spartans and a Huntress, they would be more than a match for anything they came up against.

_Focus on your own mission._ Fairfire thought as she kept pace behind Winter, her shotgun ready to be fired at a moment's notice.

As Winter inspected the final dead guardsman, Fairfire heard a wild snarl behind her. In one swift movement, she turned to come face-to-face with an Ursa Major. One fresh serving of eight-gauge buckshot in the skull proved sufficient to convince the Grimm that it was time to die, the familiar sound of an M90's report sounding like sweet music to Fairfire.

_I've missed this._ Fairfire thought as the Grimm vanished into the air.

"No survivors." Winter said, apparently having concluded her search. There wasn't a hint of emotion in her words, she concealed them well. "Keep your eyes open, the negativity here is going to act like a dinner bell for the Grimm."

"Good thing it's hunting season." Fairfire commented as she reloaded a round to replace the one she had fired.

"Don't get cocky." Winter commanded, with a surprising authority in her voice. "The Grimm might not be coming in force, but that does not mean we should expect this to be easy."

Fairfire gave a firm nod. "Understood Ma'am."

Winter drew her sword from its sheath as she scanned the surrounding woodlands. "Although… it's odd that there isn't more here yet."

As if to answer her challenge, the shrill cry of some kind of Avian creature sounded from above them. Fairfire looked up to see some kind of bat-like Grimm dangling from a tree branch as it's counterparts landed on the same branch, maybe twenty meters up in the canopy. Unlike the other Grimm, this one seemed to be reasonably-sized, although that didn't make them any less disconcerting.

_They think they're out of my range._ Fairfire realized. _That explains why they're acting so suicidal._

While Winter summoned some sort of Glyph from the ground, Fairfire fired her first shot into the cluster of Grimm to devastating effect. A pair of follow-up shots proved sufficient to kill every one of the Bats before Winter could even finish summoning the ghastly Nevermore from whatever realm she pulled it out of.

A shiver went down Fairfire's spine as Winter completed the summoning anyway, she must've expected it was going to come in handy. _I don't care how many times I see her do that, I will never get used to it._

"I didn't expect your shotguns to work at such a range." Winter admitted, her expression indicating that she was more confused than impressed.

"It can put a wad of buckshot through something at around double that range, actually. Load it with slugs, and it's at about four times that." Fairfire explained as she reloaded before she found herself grinning behind her visor. "Why, were you thinking about grabbing one?"

Winter scowled. "I think I'm perfectly comfortable with my current arsenal, thank you."

Fairfire shrugged. "Suit yourself, the offer stands if you ever change your mind."

_Forget the Grimm and the scary-ass superpowers, a planet without good shotguns is a travesty._ Fairfire thought.

There was a lull of relative silence in spite of the battle in the distance, as they walked throughout the bloodstained grass that coated the ground at the Radar Station, staying vigilant for any further Grimm. But it was while Fairfire was looking at where the Radar Tower had been sabotaged that she noticed something odd.

"Hey Specialist, come have a look at this…" Fairfire said as she came to a standstill, examining the charred metal that had once been the intact steel supports. "Looks like whatever brought this thing down did it quick."

"An explosive." Winter summarized. "We knew that a saboteur was involved here, but if they had explosives like that, they must be well-equipped."

"You think so? It can't be that hard to find Dust around here." Fairfire said. She'd seen stores outright selling the damn stuff by the crystal like it was some kind of high-risk jewelry.

"It's not, but to make it into such a potent explosive would take skill, time, and considerable effort." Winter explained as she too examined the burns closer.

Fairfire felt a sense of anger, whoever did this clearly planned it out. "Who the hell would do that?"

"The criminal, or the insane, usually both." Winter dispassionately answered. "Rest assured, if we get our shot, we'll bring them in."

Fairfire took one last glance at what she really hoped wasn't the remains of a human skeleton before turning back to the woods. She didn't feel a need to respond to Winter's statement, partially because Winter clearly wasn't expecting an answer, and partly because there was a part of Fairfire wondering if she counted as the criminally insane.

_They won't forget what you did, Semblance or not._ Fairfire thought, a familiar churning finding its way into her stomach, before she banished it outright. _Focus on the mission you moron, you've got an excellent chance to test out your Semblance right here._

Fairfire didn't even glance over her shoulder as she spoke, she wanted to remain alert. "So, Specialist. Now that we're in the field, how do I turn my Semblance on?"

There was a moment of silence as Winter probably thought about the question. "I don't think your Semblance works passively, it probably works actively, so the best thing that you can do is to just try using your Aura as you fight."

Although somewhat annoyed by Winter's cryptic answer, Fairfire figured that the Operative who had learned how to summon her fallen enemies to serve her probably knew what she was talking about. After only a few more moments of waiting, Fairfire heard heavy footfalls ahead of her and saw Winter take up a position beside her outside of her peripheral vision.

"That sounds like something heavy, be ready to move!" Winter warned.

Even before Fairfire could respond, a gigantic Grimm gorilla burst through the treeline with a ferocious roar as it barreled towards them on all fours. Heeding Winter's advice, Fairfire squeezed off a single shot and dove out of the way as the Grimm barreled past her, a massive fist landing where she had previously stood.

"Beringel!" Winter called out from the other side of the wall of black flesh between them, although there wasn't a hint of fear in her voice. "Wear it down, target the limbs!"

Fairfire rapidly returned to a firing stance, and took aim at the creature's legs. She squeezed off her first shot, and instead of releasing the trigger, proceeded to rack the slide of her weapon, firing another, then another, until the tube was empty. Slam-firing was a fairly simple technique on paper, but performing it with an Eight Gauge Magnum Shotgun was exceptionally difficult. Thankfully, Fairfire was well-practiced, and almost all of her pellets went around where she wanted them to, straight into the legs of the Beringel.

The Grimm let out an awful screech as its lower limbs were ground apart in a maelstrom of buckshot, but its scream of agony was interrupted by Winter's summoned Nevermore, which latched onto the Grimm's head and proceeded to peck at its face unrelentingly. The Beringel responded by reaching up to the Nevermore, grabbing it, and crushing it in a muscle-bound fist.

_Well, at least this ape doesn't have a gravity hammer…_ Fairfire thought as she reloaded.

The Beringel focused its efforts on Winter, who dodged around the Grimm, delivering a series of heavy-handed, yet elegant strikes on the beast's unprotected flanks. The Beringel swung its arms in protest, eventually landing a lucky blow that sent Winter flying back, but she managed to recover and properly right herself. With Fairfire now the closer target, the Beringel turned its attention towards her.

"Oh shit…" Fairfire muttered as the massive beast came barreling towards her.

This time, it seemed consciously aware that she might try to evade it, as it moved from side to side, seemingly trying to catch her before she even acted. And so, with her sensible strategy now no longer an option, she opted for a more unconventional plan. Rather than try to avoid the Beringel, she would try to stop it before it reached her.

She eyed the Beringel over as time seemed to slow to a crawl, its legs were tattered and torn where she had shot at them, but it's dense muscles were barely even touched. She could try to use her grenades or her pistol, but reaching either of them would take too much time. As it drew nearer and nearer, Fairfire was suddenly consciously aware that her Aura wasn't at its full strength, and without her full reserves, the Beringel might actually kill her.

For a split, brief moment, her mind was overtaken by fear as instinct took over. But something strange happened as she felt that familiar instinct do the exact opposite of what she anticipated it to do. Rather than instilling a sense of panic, Fairfire felt an urge to hold her fire, almost like an instruction. Against her training, judgement, and common sense, she did the risky thing and obeyed.

Seconds passed as the Beringel tore up clumps of dirt and grass beneath its massive feet as it closed the distance down to only a couple of meters. Then, Fairfire felt her instinct shift drastically, commanding her to fire now. She felt a sizable chunk of her Aura deplete as a familiar muzzle flash filled her vision, and she watched as before the Beringel could finish its leap to pounce on her… it vanished into a fine black smoke. Then a harsh ringing filled her ears as she noticed that whatever had just happened, it had made her shotgun considerably louder than her hearing protection was configured for.

Winter was at her side within a moment, shaking Fairfire into a clearer state of mind as she sat completely dumbstruck by what she had just done. With a single blast of her shotgun, she had stopped a Grimm that by no means should have died that quickly. The ringing in her ears began to die down as Winter's voice became audible.

"...Corporal, Corporal wake up!" Winter commanded, a hint of nervousness in her voice overriding her traditionally clinical tone. "Can you hear me?"

"Yeah, I'm good, fine actually." Fairfire answered as she looked at the weighty footprints where the Beringel had last stood. "What… just happened?"

"Well…" Winter said with a faint hint of pride. "I believe that you've just used your Semblance."

**UNSC Dominion**

**October 15th, 1500 Local Time, 2552**

Behind every transmission that went through the Dominion or its forces, Curie was managing the call to make sure information was being passed along correctly. In the last minute alone, the Dominion received no less than fourteen-thousand messages, calls, and transmissions. Of them, only a small number were relevant to the battle, Curie declined to respond to all of the others.

Every shot that fired from the Dominion's Point Defense Guns had a bit of her focus behind it as well. When Turret Two reported a miss, she ran a split-second analysis of the shot, isolated the issue, fixed it, and sent the corrected firing solution to the Gunnery Crew. On top of the Dominion's Point Defense System, Curie also needed to ensure that no Grimm were evading their fields of fire. Thankfully, the Atlesians were happy to fire upon any of the targets that she asked them too.

But managing so many different actions was starting to take a toll on her, so great was the pressure, that Curie would've assumed she was overworking herself, that was if an A.I could become exerted. Her processing power ebbed and flowed as various subroutines completed their tasks and Curie assigned new ones in their place. Her greatest strength was that all of her was in the Dominion's systems, not one fragment of her being was missing. And yet, she still found herself reaching the upper limits of just how many individual tasks she could handle, and sadly, she knew why.

Even if she wasn't totally aware of her own origins, she was aware of certain elements of her unique nature. While her unusual aversion to rampancy and her fragmenting capabilities were well-documented advantages, they came at a price, Curie's total processing capabilities were roughly half of that as an average Third-Generation Smart A.I. and as the battle intensified, she quickly found her reserves of excess processing power vanishing.

_I simply must be more efficient._ Curie thought.

She simplified her targeting algorithm for the point-defense cannons, requisitioned a chunk of Lieutenant Gage's system for her own usage, and put it towards generating better firing solutions. At the same time, she redirected another six transmissions of critical importance to Lieutenant Chen, she would be able to handle them better anyway. In spite of her efforts, she found her limits within reach.

_What is diverting so much of my power?_ Curie thought. Silently, rapidly, and efficiently, she reevaluated every single program she had currently running, and found a solution to her problem.

Her long-term projects were taking up a considerable part of her processing capabilities, a little over a quarter, in fact. They included various long-term strategic programs such as finding a way home and her coordination of Remnant's larger education reforms. With a heavy heart and much regret, she paused them all, and offloaded them onto an auxiliary storage drive.

With her newfound powers, she redoubled her focus on the fight, and found herself comfortably within her limits again. Now she could think clearly. In an effort to ensure that such a problem did not happen again, she reluctantly employed the elements of Auntie Dot that she had absorbed prior to the Dumb A.I's death.

_This may be morbid, but it is necessary. _Curie thought, although she was well aware that nothing remained of Dot to hear her. _Even in death, you will help us complete our mission._

"Curie, I need direct contact with the Captain of the Fox." Richard said, siphoning her attention away from the battle and onto the bridge.

"Oui, Sir." Curie said through her hologram. While she established the handshake protocol with the Fox, she looked to the Commander apologetically. "I am afraid I have been forced to postpone all of my long-term programs to focus on the battle."

He looked at her with a nearly unreadable expression, save for a shred of gratitude. "Do whatever you have to do to keep us going Curie, Argus needs us."

Curie gave a stern nod, his instructions could not be misunderstood. "Aye Sir."

Curie patched him through to the transmission he had requested, and returned to focusing on the fight outside. While the battle in the air began to draw to a relative close, the battle on the ground intensified by the second. She couldn't help but feel a hint of fear and worry for Ben and the rest of Onyx Team, well aware that they were in the thick of the action.

_He's a Spartan, accompanied by one of Humanity's greatest warriors, as well as a veteran Huntress, your worry is unfounded._ Curie sternly reminded herself, and yet, her concerns barely wavered.

**Argus**

**October 15th, 1502 Local Time, 2552**

The more Grimm that Onyx Team defeated, the easier it became for Ben to predict their movements and actions. Ursas tended to charge haphazardly, Beowolves employed basic pack tactics, as their wolf-like nature would suggest, and the Creeps seemed to be capable of grouping up into swarms, not unlike the Grunts of the Covenant.

This meant each type of Grimm had an exploitable weakness, the Beowolves relied on their pack leaders, which quickly became Nathan's priority target. The Creeps were nothing but cannon fodder in the face of Jorge and Mags. The Ursas were durable, but the vulnerabilities in their armor were easily exploited by flanking them with the help of Kerry, Peggy, and Kowalski.

As the rest of Onyx Team finished up wiping out the last of what had once been a sizable horde of various types of Grimm, Ben finished off a Boarbatusk using his Kukri, something that proved to be far more effective than he had anticipated against what was effectively an armored boar. But the gaps in its bones were easily exploited in melee combat, especially against an opponent that didn't have a chance in hell of piercing his armor.

"Not bad Sergeant, I can't remember the last time I saw someone wrestle a Boarbatusk." Mags commented as he sheathed his blade.

"Eh, compared to the Ursas, they aren't so bad." Ben replied. "At least with these things, you have a free hand to kill it."

Ignoring Mags mildly disturbed, yet vaguely impressed expression, he returned to his place in the squad's formation.

"Man, where the hell are all the Atlesians? I thought this was their damn city!" Nathan complained.

"Further towards the front I imagine, or defending the base." Ben answered, although he couldn't say anything for certain.

"Eyes forward Marines, it looks like we're getting close." Jorge said, snapping everyone back to attention.

Their target apartment building now loomed overhead, less than a block away, standing considerably taller than most of the surrounding structures. The fire on the top floor was spreading rapidly and wildly, it would be difficult to find a decent firing position to kill the Tyrant. Ben shifted the Spartan Laser over his shoulder as he remembered that with Meadows out of the fight, it would now be his duty to kill the target.

As Onyx Team approached the intersection in the roads that lead to their objective, Ben could hear gunfire and shouting, there was clearly some sort of combat already taking place at the base of the building. Jorge picked up the pace, the rest of the squad following suit, and they rounded the corner to see a squad of Marines fighting off a pack of Ursas at very close range. There were some Atlesian soldiers mixed into their ranks, and they were formed in a semi-circle around the entrance to the building, trying to defend a group of terrified civilians in the lobby.

"Give us a hand!" The squad leader of the Marines shouted. "Bastards just keep coming!"

Onyx Team engaged immediately, offering the Marines some much-needed breathing room. The weak armor on the Ursas flanks was easily exploited by Onyx Team, while the Marines and Atlesians redoubled their efforts, putting the Grimm into a deadly crossfire. More Grimm of various types arrived, coming from down the street, where Argus's defensive wall could be seen in the distance.

_There must be a breach somewhere else down the wall, or multiple._ Ben thought, noting that at least from here, the wall seemed to be intact.

"Form up with the Marines!" Jorge commanded over the din of the gunfire. Onyx Team carried out his order as they pushed towards the entrance to the apartment, and joined the Marines in their makeshift fortifications. "Mags, get up on the second story and get some fire on their reinforcements."

"Aye Aye!" She replied. She made a single great leap onto the awning over the lobby, from which she made another, shorter jump through a broken window into one of the apartments.

As Ben took a position just outside of the door to the lobby, he could see all of the people sheltering inside. The Marines looked deeply relieved to see them, and although Ben couldn't see the faces of the Atlesians beneath their helmets, he could sense their relief as well.

"Good to see you, Lieutenant!" The leading Marine said as he picked off an approaching Creep with his Battle Rifle. "Almost thought that they had us there for a moment!"

"What's your name and unit Marine?" Jorge asked.

"Sergeant Garrick, Sir, Wendigo Squad. I think these Atlas dudes said that they're from one of the local fireteams, Crimson or something-" He replied, but was distracted by the heavy footfalls of what must've been some sort of large Grimm.

Ben's radio crackled as the voice of Mags became audible over the line. "The Tyrant is coming here, down the main road!"

Even before Jorge ordered him too, Ben holstered his rifle and drew the Spartan Laser. They would need to adjust their strategy. The firing mechanism unfolded with a mechanical whirring sound, and the targeting reticle on his HUD adjusted to match his newly-equipped weapon.

As easily the most powerful handheld firearm in the UNSC's arsenal, the Spartan Laser would be their best chance at neutralizing the large Grimm. Although Jorge had proven in the deserts of Menagerie that even the largest of the Grimm were vulnerable to sustained fire, the panicked civilians crowded in the lobby of the apartment building served as a prime reminder that they did not have time to slowly erode the Tyrant.

_We'll have to kill it fast, stop it before it can reach the building._ Ben thought. Even if the Marines and Atlesians could take a hit with their Aura, the civilians didn't have that luxury.

"What's our plan?" Ben asked.

There were two obvious courses of action to take. If he attempted to gain an elevated firing position, he might be too slow and be left out of position when the Tyrant arrived. If he ventured outside, he would be at risk of being attacked by the rest of the Grimm while he fired at the target.

Jorge didn't take long to decide what their strategy would be. He turned to Sergeant Garrick and shouted a set of instructions at him. "We're going out to kill a priority target, have your men cover us!"

Garrick looked up at Jorge's visor like he was insane, but firmly nodded anyway.

"Mags, take care of anything that has heavy armor, the rest of us will cover Ben while he takes down the Tyrant." Jorge instructed over the radio. "Move out on my Mark!"

Confirmations rang out over TEAMCOM as the adrenaline rushed in Ben's blood. Even though he could fire Meadows' SMG with one hand should the need arise, he would still be largely under the protection of his squadmates amidst what was rapidly becoming a sea of Grimm.

"Mark!" Jorge commanded.

Onyx Team sallied forth under the cover of the Marines and Atlesian Soldiers, hundreds of spent casings littered the ground as dozens of Grimm of all kinds were killed in a tidal wave of gunfire. The Grimm around them dropped like flies, and even though more attempted to take their place, the combined firepower of both squads was enough for Onyx team to begin gaining ground.

Even as the firefight intensified around him, Ben focused on preparing the Spartan Laser to fire.

It didn't take long for the Tyrant to come into view, and when it did, Ben realized that he had fundamentally misunderstood Curie's description of the Grimm. She had compared it to an ancient long-deceased animal of some kind, but archeology had not been one of the things that Ben was taught during Boot Camp, leaving him without a proper expectation of the monolithic beast that was now approaching them.

Standing well over twenty meters tall, the bipedal lizard was larger than an M313 Elephant Recovery Vehicle in every regard, save for being about half the length. Its head was the size of a Warthog, and its mouth consisted of three jaws in a triangular formation, similar to those of an Elite, only lined with dozens of teeth, all of which were the size of swords. Its arms were oddly short for such a massive creature, and much of the rest of its torso was layered in spikes.

_Ah, so that's why Jorge said we needed the Laser to kill it._ Ben thought, a sense of primal fear threatening to surface itself, although it was quickly buried beneath adrenaline and his efforts to ignore it.

The effective range of the Laser was effectively infinite, so Ben wasted no time as he unfolded the targeting apparatus, lined the weapon up with the Tyrant's head, and charged his first shot. After a few seconds of charging, he fired, and the entire street was bathed in a harsh, bright red glow. The pulsed-laser shot through the air at lightspeed, burning through the Tyrant's skull and emerging unfazed throughout the other side.

The Marines and Atlesians cheered as the Tyrant slowly came to a halt… before it began to move again, seemingly unfazed by the massive burning hole reaching from its nose to the back of its head. If anything, it moved even faster, it's eyes glazed over in the same hatred that all of the Grimm shared. It was now around a hundred meters away, but with the Tyrant's massive size, it's stride meant that it would arrive any second.

Undeterred by the fact that he had apparently not delivered a killing blow, Ben let the laser cool, charged a second shot, and fired a steady beam into its neck. The Laser had a firing period of a little under half a second, which Ben used to try to maneuver the laser mid-stream to cut the Tyrant's head off. When the familiar red glow again cleared from the air, the Tyrant was now fifty meters away, still moving, with its head attached only by a small portion of what had originally been its neck.

Ben was utterly astonished, and the panicked exclamations that he heard from his squadmates indicated that they were equally surprised by the Tyrant's continued survival. Its spine must've been totally severed from its head, and the brain of any normal creature would've been either destroyed by the first blast, or starved of oxygen by the second. Faced with such a sight, there was only one reasonable conclusion to make.

_It must not need its head, it's organs must be somewhere else!_ Ben realized.

"Ben, go for the knees!" Nathan shouted, his voice overpowered the steady whine of the laser as it charged again.

Although Ben's gut reaction was to go for a center mass shot, he realized that Nathan's tactic had a point. If the next laser didn't at least incapacitate the Tyrant, it would be upon them before Ben could fire a fourth. Even with its head severed, the Grimm would still have easily torn through Onyx Team and pushed its way to the civilians before Ben and his squad could recover.

Making the split-second call to follow Nathan's suggestion, Ben lined up a shot on the creature's left knee while Nathan fired every round in his magazine into the same joint to soften up the armor and flesh for Ben's shot. Bone armor splintered and cracked as flesh was rendered by the hefty kinetic penetrators loaded in Nathan's Sniper Rifle, all the while, Ben prepared the Spartan Laser for one last shot.

Once more, a beam of brilliant red light illuminated all of Matsu Street as the Tyrant was stopped in its tracks by the laser. In what must've been some kind of instinctual attempt to avoid the laser, the Tyrant made the critical mistake of attempting to move its leg out of the way. As the Tyrant shifted its leg, the Spartan Laser did not grow any cooler, and its intense heat severed the Tyrant's left leg at the knee, causing the Grimm to tumble to the ground, incapacitated.

Although the Grimm was still alive, and it snarled and growled in a terrible way, it was, for the moment, no longer a threat. The remaining Grimm must've been scared by the fall of the Tyrant. The Marines let out a hearty cheer as they fired at the fleeing Grimm, which was quickly joined by the Atlesians, who were presumably stunned at the display.

"Goddamn, you guys have guns that do that?!" Mags said over the radio, a sense of wonder in her voice. "And to think, you all still use rifles!"

The Spartan Laser still hissed softly in Ben's hands as it dissipated the heat of three consecutively-fired shots. Ben's HUD stated that he had two shots left in the weapon before the battery was depleted entirely.

_Here's hoping that the Grimm didn't bring any more of those things._ Ben thought, watching as the Tyrant still struggled to right itself.

"Jesus, that thing's still alive?!" Nathan softly said, an unmistakable hint of fear in his voice. "And to think, I used to like Dinosaurs…"

Ben placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Hey, it's tough, but it ain't invincible."

"Yeah, on that note…" Jorge said. "Squad, reform on me, let's go finish this thing off, make sure it's not going to hurt anyone."

Mags rejoined the squad as they cautiously approached the still thrashing Tyrant. Even with its head nearly severed into two, it was remarkably undeterred, even as its own movements caused further damage to its body.

"Christ, look at the size of that thing!" Nathan commented. "It's like a big, angry building."

"You got many buildings like this back where you come from?" Mags jokingly asked. "Shit, your planet sounds a lot more interesting than here…"

Jorge and Ben ignored the chatter and deduced a plan to kill it quickly without wasting munitions, and eventually settled on throwing three grenades under the beast at once, one under the remains of the head, one under the torso, and one under the remains of the legs. No matter where the creature's "brain" was, it would be hit by something and killed, thus avoiding the problem that the Spartan Laser ran into.

Onyx Team returned to cover as Jorge, Ben, and Mags each primed a fragmentation grenade and threw them at once. The blast was deafening, and when the smoke cleared, the Tyrant's mangled corpse was still visible, although it was now completely still.

Moments later, it began to steadily melt into a viscous black fluid, which began to pool around it's rapidly melting body. Onyx Team instinctively began to slowly back away as the liquid naturally pooled in the streets of Argus, filling in the lowest points before moving on.

"Mags, what's it doing?" Ben asked.

He figured that maybe she would know what was happening, and why it wasn't just dissipating like a normal Grimm, but Mags didn't respond. Ben turned to see her staring at the rapidly spreading black fluid with a mix of shock and fear, and he quickly deduced that something was dreadfully wrong.

A painful knot formed in his stomach, as if trying to warn him about something coming. At the same time, a solid shape began to take form as it emerged from the puddle, droplets of the black fluid falling from what was now becoming visible as the tip of a long, slender limb, complete with a set of claws on the end.

"Back up!" Ben shouted, hoping that he would be fast enough to warn his squad to move out of the way.

He drew the SMG from his hip at such speed that most of his squad had not even reacted to his words before he started firing. The strange Grimm tendril flinched the first few times it was hit, but quickly adapted to the pain, and lunged forward towards Ben just as the magazine ran dry. Thankfully, the rest of Onyx Team had now reacted, and their combined fire was enough to stun the tendril, before a shot from Mags managed to cut it in half, the liberated portion of the limb quickly dissipating into the air.

But as the remains of the first tendril retreated back into the puddle, seemingly re-melting into a liquid form as it did so, at least six more of the limbs reached out of the puddle, all bearing down on Onyx Team. Even without any way of seeing the humans, it was as if they could sense their presence, as they lashed out to try and strike them with immense force. But with the element of surprise lost, the tendrils quickly fell to combined gunfire.

Jorge took the initiative and took aim at the puddle of black goo itself, rather than the tendrils, and with his explosive ammo, successfully severing two of them in their entirety before the rest disappeared back beneath the surface. Although it might just have been an illusion, Ben could've sworn that the puddle grew slightly as the tendrils retreated.

"Ben, plasma grenade!" Jorge shouted.

Ben withdrew and primed a plasma grenade before throwing it into the pool of black liquid. When the grenade detonated, the pool exploded, sending the liquid flying violently in every direction with particles and blobs of burning plasma still fuzed to it.

With the pool now broken up and its remains burning, it finally disappeared in a familiar, if ever-unnerving, black smoke. No more tendrils emerged, and no more of the strange Grimm fluid remained. With the unusual remains of the Tyrant now completely dead, Onyx Team regrouped once again in front of the apartment building, finding that the Marines and Atlesians were beginning to file the civilians out of the lobby.

"I'm so glad that guy's dead, he was freaking me the hell out." Nathan said in a half-joke, his voice cracking slightly as he looked back at where the Tyrant had once been thrashing on the ground, as if expecting more tentacles to appear from that area.

"Tell me about it…" Mags said, a haunted look on her face. "Ten years as a Huntress and I have never seen anything like that…"

"Disturbing or not, that thing wasn't invulnerable, none of these things are." Jorge said, clearly trying to offer some reassurance. Ben recognized something in his words that any non-Spartan would have totally missed, concern.

"Fuck me, man…" Nathan said. Ben could hear him let out a hefty breath, it must've really gotten under his skin.

"Pull it together, Helljumper." Ben said, putting a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "It's going to take more than some demented spaghetti to kill us."

Nathan let out a halfhearted chuckle at Ben's attempted joke, but his effort to lighten the mood had clearly not succeeded. Mags stared at nothing in particular with her eyes wide and blank, no doubt pondering what exactly they had just fought. And even though the rest of his squadmates all had visors covering their faces, it wasn't hard to see that they were shaken.

_How could they not be? That was like Staring down a Scarab, only it had teeth, and didn't even die the first time around._ Ben thought, realizing that perhaps their discomfort was justified. He himself had felt a fair hint of fear as he stared down the Tyrant, but thankfully, none of his squadmates had backed down when it had mattered, and because of that, everyone was still alive.

For just a little bit longer.

**Salem's Castle**

**October 15th, 1914 Local Time, 2552**

_Of course they have lasers._ Salem thought with a grumble of irritation.

One of her most powerful, newest creations, had been killed by some alien lunatic with one of the most powerful non-magical weapons that she had ever seen. She had honestly expected their warship and its weapons to be the last trick they had up their sleeve, but it seemed that she had underestimated the versatility and power of the UNSC's arsenal.

_Perhaps Tyrian could steal one for us, that is, if he could get close enough to try._ Salem thought.

"The Dominion is moving." Watts unceremoniously announced.

Salem shifted her vision to a Seer that was concealed in the forests, far outside of Argus, and took a look for herself. Indeed, the UNSC was moving their vessel forward, in a sort of sluggish drift that seemed odd, given the impressive speeds that it was apparently capable of travelling at. It moved away from the airspace above the Argus Military Base and repositioned itself over the outer wall of Argus.

As the cannons aboard the ship began to fire upon the Grimm outside of the wall, Salem quickly deduced the UNSC leader's strategy. They were attempting to use the warship and its firepower as a bulwark, stopping any further Grimm from entering the city. Admittedly, it would prove an obstacle to any of the wild Grimm who had not yet entered the fight, but it was fatally out of position for what Salem had planned.

"Then it is time to release the hounds." She commented, and all at once, the commands that she had given to the Grimm became null and void, only to be replaced by their anger and need to destroy.

"Beowolves? I expected something greater." Watts said with a huff of amusement.

"It was a metaphor." Salem said, looking at him with a glare that quickly put him back into his place.

At first, nothing seemed to change. Then the ground itself shook around Argus, the waves in the distant sea intensified as a gigantic black mass emerged, and a howling roar pierced the afternoon air of Argus.

At the same time, the forests around Argus's twin mountains began to shift and shake, as thousands of fresh Grimm moved beneath their canopies. The canopy then parted altogether, as swarms of a new breed of Acid-Spitting Lancers flying into the sky.

"...I see." Watts said, without an ounce of humor in his voice.

Salem gave a quiet smile as she saw the fear in his eyes.


	49. Chapter 49

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 1514 Local Time, 2552**

The Dominion steadily hovered through the air, ruthlessly gutting any Grimm that dared to breach the perimeter that she had established around Argus. Even the larger types of Grimm, like the appropriately-named Goliaths, only took a handful of shots to banish from existence. Richard could tell just by the way the Grimm shifted their movements and actions that they had not expected such an offensively-minded tactic from the UNSC.

He shook his head a moment later. The Grimm were difficult like that sometimes. He had spent years fighting against an alien race they could barely understand but this… was different. It was all too easy to assume they had some kind of plan, some kind of strategy, but you couldn't predict the mindset of a wild animal, at least not in the same way. A mindless beast was just that, but combined with an insatiable attraction to negative emotion and things became so much worse. They wouldn't run or flee, they would never fall back and regroup, and they would never falter in their advance by choice. Their actions were dictated by their surroundings, every move they made was a surprise to him.

_Well, we're full of our own surprises._ Richard thought with a great sense of satisfaction as he watched as a King Taijitu was gutted from one head to the other end by a lightning-fast tungsten slug.

"Sir, the Captain of the Fox is requesting to speak with General Ironwood." Ensign Gillespie reported.

"Patch him through." Richard commanded, not deviating his attention from where it was needed as he spoke.

He watched the battle develop on the holotable, indicators marking the positions of Grimm and friendly units alike as the fight continued to escalate. Soon, the Grimm would undoubtedly lose whatever momentum they had left, and the Marines would be free to do what they did best. But as he watched the battle unfold, he noticed something very strange happen amongst the Grimm that were still outside of the city walls. Almost all at once, they stopped their evasive movements and began to sprint directly towards Argus, seemingly without regard for their own safety. The change in behavior was so sudden and abrupt, it was as if someone had flipped a switch.

_Looks like they're coordinating their efforts somehow… that's odd, maybe they do have some sort of pack-like mentality, or maybe something's happened to draw them in even faster... Either way, Argus can't take any more Grimm right now._ Richard thought. "Lieutenant Gage, redirect our fire to target all Grimm inbound on Argus, it looks like they've given up on hiding from us."

"I see it, Sir! Don't worry, we can handle it!" Gage reported. He sounded slightly nervous, but Richard trusted that he would capably handle the developing situation.

_Why attack all at once? What's changed? _Richard thought as he studied the Grimm in closer detail.

His observations were interrupted by the screech of some sort of animal, whatever it was, it was so loud that even through sixty centimeters of Titanium-A Armor, the bridge crew of the Dominion could faintly make it out. Richard could've sworn the Dominion rumbled from the sound, but he knew that it was just a figment of his imagination. If the Dominion was rumbling, it was from the recoil of her guns.

"What the hell was that?!" Bradford asked aloud, vocalizing the thoughts of practically everybody in Argus and on the Dominion in a single sentence.

"Sir, we have movement off of the coast of Argus!" Lieutenant Chen reported. "Something big, it's coming out of the water!"

_I guess we're about to see. _Richard thought. "Put it on-screen!"

The primary monitor on the bridge shifted its view and began broadcasting a live video feed from one of the Dominion's Aft Cameras. Richard watched as a black mass of flesh and bone emerged from the ocean, and steadily began to take form. The Grimm was astonishingly large, nearly the size of a small starship, approaching nearly eighty meters in height. Its aquatic nature was obvious, although there was a distinctly lizard-esque appearance to its overall body structure.

Nothing that size should've been able to move on its own volition, the square-cube law should've ensured it couldn't, but Remnant had long since proven it's borderline-disregard for Newtonian Physics. In blatant defiance of physics, the creature emerged from the water, generating massive waves as it stood up, the lower portions of its body still concealed beneath the waves.

"Oh dear Lord…" Bradford muttered, a look of undisguised horror flashing across his face. Even as he stood upon the deck of the mightiest warship on Remnant, Richard could also feel a faint hint of fear dredge itself up in the back of his mind, but it was easily suppressed.

Even though General Ironwood was dead silent, Richard was consciously aware that he was standing beside him, watching as the water fell off of the creature, revealing its form. It was like the antagonist of an old corny monster movie, standing on two legs the size of buildings, with monolithic bone spires stretching off of its body that Richard thought must've been meant to resemble the spines of smaller Grimm.

"That's… a Leviathan." General Ironwood stated after another moment of hesitation. He was doing an admirable job to conceal his concern, but Richard could tell he was extremely worried. "With the city's defensive shields down… it could easily reach the Military Base."

_And all the civilians inside._ Richard silently added. He narrowed his eyes at the creature, they had not come this far to lose the people of Argus now. "Not for long it's not... Lieutenant Gage, redirect Battery Twelve to fire on that target, load Sabots, fire at will!"

"Aye Aye, Sir!" Gage shakily replied.

"Sir, we have new contacts coming from the flanking mountains, Grimm Lancers and lots of them!" Lieutenant Chen called out.

Richard watched as the holographic representation of the battle was flooded by additional flying red contacts from practically every direction. There were hundreds of the large wasp-like Grimm, all rushing towards Argus, the Dominion, and her airwing with murderous intent. They joined forces with the surviving Grimm still in the air, and once more, the airspace over Argus was contested.

_Where the hell did those things come from?!_ Richard thought, astonished that the Dominion's sensors had failed to pick up on so many concealed Grimm.

The point-defense guns of the Dominion shifted their fire to the new arrivals, knocking down several Lancers with every shot. But for every Lancer that they killed, another three took its place. The Dominion's squadron of Sabres broke off to engage the new threat immediately, and in their first pass alone, they must have killed several dozen of the things. But it was barely a drop in the bucket compared to the swarm of giant black insects that soared over Argus.

"Batteries One through Eleven, load flak ammunition, proximity fuse!" Gage commanded from his station. Reassured that he could handle the Dominion's immediate response, Richard turned his attention back to the wider strategic view.

He very quickly recognized that he only had the resources to fight off either the new aerial contacts or the Leviathan. He would be forced to choose which target to destroy first, before quickly repositioning to face the other, it was a bad situation to be placed in, but trying to fight off both at once could be cataclysmic.

Given that the Leviathan was still around two kilometers out, and the Dominion's position over Argus, it didn't take long for Richard to make his decision.

"Lieutenant Chen, order Voodoo and Excalibur Squadrons to prioritize the Lancers, lift all rules of engagement." Richard commanded. Retracting the rules of engagement would certainly be a controversial decision, especially over a civilian city, but the stakes demanded that his pilots be free to act as they needed. "Lieutenant Gage, keep our guns firing, do not let those things get any closer!"

"Aye Aye, Sir!" They both replied.

_It won't be enough._ Richard quickly realized. The Point-Defense guns had a limited rate of fire, and they would not be able to cut through the swarm fast enough, either the Dominion or Argus would be struck by the new arrivals any moment, and that was unacceptable.

Richard was also consciously aware that the Marines were still struggling to recover Argus, and if the Grimm kept pouring in then there was a risk that they could become overrun. Dozens more Grimm on the ground poured into the city by the second, and there was little that the Dominion could do to stop them. Thankfully, it seemed that for the moment, the Huntsmen nearest to the walls could hold their ground.

_I'd say this more than counts as an emergency…_ Richard thought as he brought up the Dominion's munition roster on his datapad. "Curie, unlock the safeties on Archer pods four through six, and prepare a firing solution to target those Lancers, we're going to clear the skies again."

"I will do what I can." Curie answered, with an indeterminable emotion in her voice, but Richard had no time to read into it.

General Ironwood stood forward, a look of confusion on his face. "What about that Leviathan?"

"Right now, we leave it be." Richard reluctantly replied. "If we can't handle those Lancers, we'll lose Argus anyway, Leviathan or not."

Although the Leviathan would certainly demand his attention sooner rather than later, he could not allow the Lancers to even get a chance to try their luck at piercing the Dominion's Hull. Although even if they did manage to reach the Dominion, it was unlikely they could do anything more than be an annoyance. The Marines on the ground, however, did not have the luxury of armor plating, and would likely be torn to ribbons by the Lancer swarm if the Dominion couldn't stop them.

Recognizing that he couldn't do anything about the Lancers until Curie had prepared her firing solution, he briefly returned his attention to the Leviathan, looking just in time to see another pair of rounds from Battery Twelve impact it. The hypersonic projectiles struck the front of the Leviathan's head and emerged from the other end barely slowed, tearing messy holes through its head in the process. The Leviathan appeared to stagger with each salvo that the Rampart Turret put through its head, but stopping it entirely with only a single turret was apparently infeasible.

"The brain of that thing should've been torn apart by the kinetic force alone…" Richard noted, mentally listing all of the weapons that he had in his arsenal that would do the job of killing the beast.

"Leviathans need to lose a large amount of their body mass in a single strike, otherwise it'll just regenerate anything we can throw at it." Ironwood explained.

"I'm sorry, that thing regenerates?!" Bradford demanded.

"All Grimm can regenerate slowly, but the Leviathan can do it very quickly." Ironwood explained, before turning to Richard. "We need to hit it with something large, all at once. Normally I would have suggested the Colossus, but..."

Unexpectedly, Lieutenant Chen raised her voice with another concern. "Commander, I've lost contact with both of our Sparrowhawks!"

_Too many damn problems at once._ Richard thought. He gestured for Lieutenant Bradford to handle the issue of their missing aircraft, who nodded as he went to join Lieutenant Chen at her station. _First, we loosen up the Lancers, then we take down that damn lizard._

"Firing solution for Archer Missiles is prepared, safeties retracted!" Curie announced after what felt like an eternity.

"Fire!" Richard instructed.

A series of steady thumps ran throughout the Dominion's hull as sixty capital-grade missiles launched from the Dominion, locked onto their targets, and ruthlessly began to pursue them. Explosions began to rapidly rock the air around Atlas, joining those provided by the Dominion's airwing and cannons, as hundreds of flying Grimm were blown to shreds in the span of moments. The Lancers were the target of the volley, and although hundreds still remained, they were no longer the urgent threat that they had once been.

"Warning, Leviathan has closed to one kilometer off of the coast." Curie advised. Richard nodded, it would be time to adjust the Dominion's focus.

"Redirect Batteries Ten and Eleven, target that thing's legs." Richard replied. "Bring the Atlesian Military report on the Leviathan, and send it to my Datapad."

His tablet pinged with a new message, which he opened and skimmed over as the Leviathan screeched at the newfound fire it was receiving. A brief glance at the video feed confirmed it was still moving, and faster than he would have liked. By now, the coastal defense cannons on the Atlesian island-fortress had opened fire, but against such a massive target, their effect was minimal.

"General Ironwood, can your Cruisers do anything to slow that thing down?" Richard asked. "I'll need more time here!"

Ironwood scowled, but nodded in compliance. "We'll do what we can."

It was an imperfect solution, as any resources focused on the Leviathan meant less support for the soldiers on the ground in Atlas, but the faster they could take down that thing, the better.

Richard read further down the report as both of the Atlesian Cruisers focused their laser batteries on the Leviathan, buying Richard the precious seconds that he needed to put together a plan to kill it. The Dominion was practically bristling with options as to how to kill the Leviathan, but many of them were so deadly and powerful that they would risk taking Argus along with it.

Nuclear Warheads were obviously not an option, what with the Leviathan now standing just under a kilometer from the coast of Argus. The MAC was certainly tempting, and still sat at half of its charge, but firing it from the Dominion's current position would cause the projectile to overpenetrate the Grimm and land in the ocean, which would create a lethal tidal wave from the sheer impact of the weapon, likely leveling Argus in the process. Repositioning would also take too much time, and so, the MAC would not work.

_Conventional it is then._ Richard thought, well aware that the clock ticked down by the second.

The Point-Defense Coilguns would be busy with the Lancers, and were apparently not inflicting enough damage to even capably wound the Leviathan. The Archer Missiles would likely be needed for smaller targets, and with the sheer size of the Leviathan, they might not deliver the required stopping power. Although they were capable of penetrating the hull of a starship, a Grimm was far less dense, and similarly to the MAC, most of the impact would overpenetrate.

_What do we have that could hit that thing hard, something high-explosive-_ Richard thought, before the solution struck his mind with the grace of a sledgehammer.

"Commander?" Ironwood asked, now unashamedly nervous at Richard's continued silence, combined with the march of the Leviathan.

"Lieutenant Gage, load Trebuchet Missile Five into Silo One, prepare impact fuze." Richard instructed. "Curie, prepare a firing solution, we want a direct impact."

"Aye Sir!" They both urgently replied.

Ironwood, however, did not seem reassured at all. "I thought you said a weapon like that could destroy Argus?!"

"Most of the kinect impact of the missile is going to be lost, based on how close-range this is going to be. Only the explosive warhead will function, which will kill the Leviathan, and leave Argus unharmed." Richard explained the nuances of his strategy, which seemed to calm Ironwood down. "Still, I would advise that you order your Airships to get clear, the shockwave could damage them."

Ironwood nodded as he relayed Richard's suggestion to the remaining Atlesian Cruisers and their smaller Gunships. Agonizing moments passed as the preparations were completed, with each step the Leviathan took, it grew nearer and nearer to the Atlesian Military Base, and all of the civilians inside.

As they slowly retreated, the Atlesian Cruisers unleashed a volley of missiles each, likely the last that they had, which struck the Levithan with enough force to knock it back into the water. Chunks of the Leviathan were blown off of its body from the barrage, and it responded by opening its mouth and revealing a growing ball of energy.

A million memories flooded Richard's mind at once, none of them pleasant. He was back aboard the Bridge of a Prowler, watching as Covenant ships charged their weapons. It started as a dull glow of purple, orange, red, or blue. It would slowly grow brighter as the Plasma Torpedo took shape, and then it would lance away from the alien vessel, probably torching through a UNSC warship once it impacted. Richard was pulled back to the present as he watched the same thing happen again, only this time, it was in the mouth of The Leviathan.

"Chen, order them to move, now!" Richard urgently ordered. He did not want to see what happened if the badly-damaged Atlesian Cruisers were struck by such a blast.

"Fox, take evasive action!" Chen hastily ordered, but it was already too late.

Richard watched in anguish as a beam of wretched golden energy launched from the Leviathan's mouth, smashing into the frontal armor of the Atlesian Cruiser with enough force to crack the plating outright. The shields were already gone from the earlier skirmishes the airship had partaken in, and its hull boiled and melted away over the course of several seconds before something must have happened inside of the Fox, caused by the Leviathan's strike.

A cataclysmic explosion rocked the skies over Argus, accompanied by a multicolored tornado of fire, ice, earth, wind, lava, and various other elements that erupted from the Fox, before blasting out into the sky with the force of a volcanic eruption. In a small bout of mercy from whatever deity was watching, the blast was focused upwards and away from Argus, but that did not make the results any less mortifying.

Richard had watched the reactors of UNSC and Covenant vessels alike overload in the darkness of space, and even he was still astonished by the explosive force when the Dust Magazine of the Fox was ignited. Whereas the blasts he had seen before had been in a vacuum, this was within a planet's atmosphere, and the resulting shockwave was so great that entire buildings were blown apart beneath the Fox, even before the scraps and shards of debris came down. The Dominion itself briefly rattled from the immense shockwave, before her inertial dampeners and immense mass brought her to a steady halt.

The whole of the Bridge Crew watched in shock and helplessness as one of Atlas's mightiest capital ships, and the brave crewmen aboard, were blown into billions of tiny fragments. For a moment, Richard stood stunned, before instinct and anger took over again, shaking him free from his frozen nature.

"Curie?" He asked, his voice stuttering slightly as he tried to speak. There was no need to elaborate on what he needed to know, she already would have known what he wanted.

"Firing solution is set, Commander." She replied, her eyes ablaze with rage as she stared at the Leviathan through the Dominion's viewport.

"Fire!" Richard barked.

The large and powerful Trebuchet missile launched forward from its silo and directed itself towards the Levithan. Even as it neared its target, Richard stared and watched, well aware of what was about to come next.

The Missile collided and detonated in spectacular fashion. Although the impact of the orbital support missile was dwarfed by the explosion of the Fox, this time, there were none of the elemental effects associated with Dust, just fire and the shockwaves of the atmosphere around the Leviathan being destroyed just as thoroughly as the creature itself. And unlike with the Fox, the smoke from the blast lingered and spread, it would take a little while to dispel.

"Chen?" Richard asked, mentally kicking himself at how weary he sounded.

She silently examined the area with the Dominion's Radar, before he turned to him and quietly answered. "It's gone, Sir."

Richard let out a sigh of relief. Beside him, Ironwood let out a deep breath, and the tension on the Bridge began to steadily die down.

_Can't relax yet, we've still got a battle to fight._ Richard thought. He didn't allow himself even a moment of calm, there was work to be done.

"Steady!" Richard commanded. "We're not out of the woods yet! Gage, redirect those turrets to the remaining Lancers! Williams, bring us in closer to the fight, we're going right into the thick of it!"

"Aye Sir!" They both replied.

"General, pull your air forces back, we'll handle it from here." Richard instructed. The Atlesian airfleet at Argus was on the brink of total collapse, and despite the death of the Leviathan, there was still an ample threat of them being annihilated.

Ironwood looked at him like he was crazy. "You're going to take on that whole swarm… alone?"

"We're not alone, General, we have our fighter wing." Richard replied, deliberately ignoring the point of Ironwood's statement. "Your forces can't fight anymore General, pull them back, and let us finish this fight."

Ironwood took a deep breath, but eventually, he grabbed a radio and complied.

While the rest of the Dominion's crew prepared to finish the battle in the air, Richard took a brief moment to look back at the burning debris that had once been the Fox, and the crashed hull of the Neptune.

_Even on Remnant, the Navy just can't catch a break…_ Richard sadly thought, sparing a moment to remember all of the mighty UNSC vessels that he had personally watched burn, before he turned his attention back to the battle.

**Argus**

**October 15th, 1520 Local Time, 2552**

A lone Lancer skittered through the air, the rest of its swarm having been killed by the Dominion's guns. Undeterred, it selected a target, a small group of human soldiers that were isolated from the larger formation, thinking that perhaps it could catch them off-guard. Before it could close in to attack, however, a single high-velocity bullet separated its right wing before a spray of Assault Rifle fire destroyed the rest of its body.

"Gotcha!" Nathan called out as he lowered his Sniper Rifle, the end of the barrel still smoking from the report.

He spared a quick glance at Ben, who gave him a thumbs-up, a silent compliment to his flawless accuracy. Nathan returned the gesture as he looked at the road ahead of them, it was filled to the brim with dead or dying Grimm. Single shots from the other ODSTs were plenty to finish off the wounded. Once they were all gone for certain, and Jorge could be certain that none of them would get back up to attack them again, the Spartan stood up from his firing position, gesturing the squad forward as he did so.

"Move out, we need to make it to the Rally Point!" Jorge instructed. The rest of Onyx quickly reformed around him, before proceeding forwards at a jogging pace.

"Is it a good idea to concentrate all of your forces so closely together?" Mags asked as she fell back into the formation. "What if the Grimm try to move around us?"

"Any offensive action requires concentrated forces, if we're too spaced out, the Grimm are going to repel us with ease. We'll handle the counterattack, and the Atlesians will handle the cleanup in Argus." Jorge replied, which seemed to put Mags somewhat at ease.

Nathan noted the oddity in how the Spartan addressed the concerns that Mags shared. Most of the Senior Officers that he had served under before would have told her to shut up and stay focused on the mission, but Jorge was clearly different.

_Maybe he's just a bit more empathetic, I guess._ Nathan thought. He had learned from Ben that trying to decipher the actions of Spartans was more difficult than Nathan would have guessed, but that didn't mean that he had any problems with having them in his squad, far from it, they seemed like reasonable people.

"More Lancers, eyes up!" Ben called out before he unleashed a long stream of automatic gunfire into the air.

Nathan returned his focus to his rifle as he looked upward, bracing into a firing position even before he saw the enemy. The SRS99D-S2 AM Sniper Rifle was heavy, and it kicked like a mule, but a trained operator like Nathan could employ the weapon fairly effectively even when firing from a standing position.

His expert eyes scanned the formation of Lancers, there were six of them, and his squad was already doing an admirable job at suppressing their approach. Their thoraxes glowed an aggressive orange, a characteristic of their lethal acid. If given the chance, there was no doubt it could melt through an ODST's BDU in seconds.

_But maybe..._ Nathan thought as he lined up a shot on the center Lancer, tapping into his Semblance briefly to get a closer look at the Lancer's Acid Gland. He'd begun to find some uses for his strange Semblance, and one of them was marking his target to make it stand out more from its surroundings, allowing him to focus better. _...it's not just a threat to us._

Nathan fired, and the bullet perforated the Lancer's Acid Gland with little difficulty, causing it to rupture spectacularly in mid-air. The acidic contents of the organ splattered on both itself and it's fellow Lancers, causing them to scatter as they fluttered about in pain, struggling to free themselves as they were dissolved by their own weapon.

"Haha!" Nathan cackled in celebration as he adjusted his fire, decapitating the leader of the flock before his squad finished off the rest of the Lancers. "Did you see that stuff go flying?"

"Yeah, I didn't think it would explode so… violently." Mags commented. The tone of her voice indicated that she felt a greater sense of disgust than respect, which Nathan could empathize with. It had been quite gross. "We'll have to exploit that."

"Maybe the acid is kept at high pressure, so when it's allowed to escape, it ruptures." Ben suggested.

"You know, that's a really intelligent way to say 'It blows up when you shoot it.'" Nathan pointed out. "You could just cut out the middleman and cut to the important bit."

"It's useful to know that it does explode." Ben replied. "But it's just as useful to know why exactly it explodes, so that we can better exploit it in the future."

_You know, it's pretty damn obvious that a scientist lives in his head, just by the way he talks sometimes._ Nathan thought as he rolled his eyes, but he didn't vocalize his thoughts. Cracking a joke here and there was one thing, but Nathan always did his best to keep things a bit more professional on the field, and disrupting the squad in the middle of a battle was the last thing he wanted to do.

"How much further until we reach the rally point?" Mags asked as the squad continued their march.

"About two-hundred meters up this street, and then we regroup with them at the Main Gate." Jorge answered.

In the distance, Nathan could hear a substantial amount of gunfire from the Rally Point. The familiar reports of UNSC weapons were intermixed with Atlesian guns and lasers, with the sounds of all of the smaller weapons being frequently drowned out as tank cannons and coilguns fired. From the sounds of things, most of the Marines had probably already reached the rendezvous.

"Sounds like we're a bit late to the party." Nathan noted as the familiar sound of a Scorpion tank's main gun echoed down the city streets.

"That's all the more reason to pick up the pace." Jorge replied without looking back.

Worryingly, it seemed like the Grimm had grown sparser in number the closer that they got to the wall. Nathan couldn't decide whether their absence was a good thing or not, on one hand, he was happy to see them gone, on the other hand, he didn't believe for an instant that all of the Grimm this close to the wall had been wiped out.

"The Lieutenant just radioed in, says he needs us for a special assignment." Jorge reported to the rest of the squad. "Pick up the pace!"

Nathan complied, speeding up into a full run along with the rest of his squad. Mags and the Spartans could've easily outpaced him and the other three Helljumpers, thankfully, they slowed themselves down so as to not become separated. Although they probably could try to use their Auras to speed themselves up, none of the ODSTs had done any training in that aspect, and with what Nathan had learned, untrained Aura users had a nasty habit of draining the entirety of their Auras in an attempt to perform a single, simple action. He was more than happy to rely on his own familiar legs if it meant that he didn't risk knocking himself out in the middle of a battle.

When they finally reached the end of the road, they found a massive fight already taking place around the Main Gate. Nathan activated his Semblance as to better identify where all of the friendly units were, as he and his squad looked over the carnage. Marines and Grimm skirmishes around the Gate, trying to wrestle all of the surrounding structures into their control, but thankfully, the Marines had plenty of backup.

Two M808B Scorpion tanks and an M850 Grizzly tank were positioned around the wide and ornate entrance to Argus, turning anything dumb enough to try and cram their way through was turned into fine mulch by the deadly three-way crossfire. Whoever was in charge of the UNSC's tanks had positioned them very well. To cover their flanks, what must've been at least a dozen Warthogs with either M41 Rotary Cannons or M79 Rocket Launchers were constantly moving up and down the wall, gunning down any of the more agile Grimm that tried to either scale or otherwise cross the wall.

Although Nathan couldn't actually see them, the distinct smoke trails of missiles in the air indicated the presence of M9 Wolverine Anti-Aircraft vehicles. It was also a safe bet that the rest of the Dominion's tanks and armored vehicles were stationed elsewhere along the wall, preventing any more Grimm from entering the city. Marine Squads, Atlesian Soldiers, and the odd Huntsmen or Huntress provided an extra layer of defense.

_Huh, looks like they have the situation under control._ Nathan thought. _So where did all the Grimm go?_

"Less Grimm than I was expecting…" Mags commented, seemingly echoing his thoughts.

"Don't get cocky." Jorge chastised, before as if to prove his point, additional Grimm made their entrance. "Eyes up, more Lancers!"

Nathan looked skyward and shifted the focus of his Semblance, opting to highlight the Lancers for easier target acquisition. He spotted them quickly, a swarm of around three-dozen of the Grimm had broken off from the air battle and were preparing to make an attack on the Marines at the Main Gate. One of the turrets on the Dominion took the chance to kill four of them with a single shot, while a strafing run from a Hornet killed three more, but the rest continued undeterred.

"Weapons free!" Jorge commanded.

Onyx Team unleashed a storm of gunfire and were quickly joined by the Warthogs from Zulu Company, as well as the Marines and Atlesians. Nathan personally targeted one of the larger, noticeably uglier Lancers, and aimed for the Acid Sack with the aid of his Semblance, blowing it apart in a violent spray of orange acid and black flesh. Most of the remaining Lancers received a similar experience, and Nathan even saw the distinctive bullet trails of other UNSC Sniper Rifles joining forces with his own to bring down the giant wasps.

By the time that the Lancers were in any position to strike, only a handful of their original number remained. Half of them waved off immediately, taking shelter behind Argus's wall, while the rest launched large blobs of acid, most of which missed. One of them managed to hit the Grizzly Tank by the gate, but the acid barely even scratched the outer layer of titanium of the tank's legendarily thick armor.

"Woohoo!" Nathan cheered at their minor victory. "Why can't they all die that easily?"

Beside him, Jorge kept looking skyward, as if expecting something else to attack them. Unexpectedly, both he and Ben turned on their heels as Jorge shouted a warning, and as Nathan looked at his motion tracker, he saw the reason why. His heart fell into his stomach as his motion tracker showed large, red contacts sporadically appearing behind them, and he had already learned what that meant the hard way in Atlas.

"Centinels!" Jorge shouted as he opened fire, swiftly joined by the rest of the squad. More of the horrible creatures sprung up from the ground around them, and the humans quickly found themselves surrounded.

One of the large worm-like creatures burst up from the asphalt beside Corporal Kerry and bit down on the Helljumper's leg before he could react, causing the ODST to scream in panic as he frantically shot at the creature with his Assault Rifle. Fragments of bone and black flesh flew off of the Centinel's body, but it stubbornly remained alive.

"Hold still!" Nathan shouted as he lined up a shot with his Sniper Rifle. In a typical situation, using an anti-material rifle designed for extreme range fighting at effectively point-blank range was not a very good idea, but it was what Nathan had in his hands, so he figured it would have to work.

With perhaps only a meter of space between the tip of his barrel and the Centinel's head, Nathan fired, sending shards of the Grimm's bone armor scattering in all directions and burrowing a solid hole into the Grimm's head. Kerry scrambled back up to his feet, and both he and Nathan rejoined the bigger fight.

As Nathan got a better grasp of what was going on, he saw just how blindsided they had been by the Centinels. While Onyx Team had been content to focus and fire upon the Lancers in the sky, the Centinels must have been creeping up on them. Worse still, Ben and Mags had been caught with empty magazines and were both caught in a brutal melee with the creatures, but they had both managed to beat larger Grimm in similar circumstances, so Nathan wasn't terribly worried about them. Nathan and Kerry quickly found themselves isolated along with Kowalski and Peggy, surrounded by Centinels that were rapidly closing in around them.

As if to prove that things could, in fact, always get worse, the ground parted several meters before the four Helljumpers, revealing a new kind of Grimm as it emerged from the asphalt. Having faced the horrors of the Grimm before, and even the worst aspects of the Covenant's onslaught, Nathan had liked to think that he was a brave person, but this new Grimm indicated that perhaps he was not as courageous as he thought.

The Grimm's overall form resembled a giant Tarantula with a central body the size of a SOEIV drop pod. Its legs were long, multi-jointed, and covered in protective plates of bone armor, with long spear-like appendages on the end of each leg. Its mouth was easily the most unsettling thing about it, as it defied every expectation Nathan would have had. It was like a large, terrible representation of a human mouth, but with a handful of horrible differences, like its black teeth or horrible gums that seemed to glow with a faint light.

Suppressing his own personal fear as best as he could, Nathan fell back upon his training as he took a firing stance, and blew out three of the creature's eyes with the remaining three bullets in his magazine. The Spider Grimm screeched with pain as black flesh and bone armor alike were torn asunder, but the horrible monster remained standing as it began to rapidly crawl towards him, it's body shifting low to the ground as it walked.

Nathan wasn't ashamed to admit there was more than a small amount of panic going through his mind as he let go of his rifle, letting it fall to his chest by the sling, and reached for his M6C/SOCOM magnum. But before he could line up a shot, he was blindsided by a Centinel that had pounced on him from his left side, which knocked him into a position where he was sat on the ground, doing his best to avoid being pinned by the Grimm. He swore and spat as he briefly wrestled with the Centinel, placed his pistol around where he assumed the brain would be, and fired. Stubbornly, the Centinel clung to life, pinning him into a violent melee as the Spider Grimm grew nearer and nearer, it's unsettling jaws practically flowing freely with horrible black saliva as if it deeply anticipated devouring him.

"A little help?!" Nathan cried out, with a bit more panic in his voice than he was honestly comfortable with.

In the blink of an eye, the Centinel was blown in half by a perfectly aimed cannonball from Mags' weapon as she came out of nowhere. Nathan immediately aimed his pistol at the Spider Grimm and fired, but only inflicted minor damage to its jaws. Mags seemed to have better luck as she launched a salvo of cannonballs into its open mouth, which promptly detonated their Earth Dust payloads, causing large amounts of rocks and soil to seemingly appear from within the demonic creature.

The Spider Grimm rapidly backed up as it spat out the sizable amount of dirt that had been forced into its mouth, making a horrible retching noise in the process. Mags pulled Nathan up to his feet as she reloaded. "Thanks, Mags."

"Don't thank me yet, first we gotta-" Mags began to reply before her train of thought was interrupted as the Spider Grimm screeched at her and charged. Not to be outdone, Mags prepared to charge forward as well, presumably to engage the Grimm in a fierce melee.

But while Nathan was still processing the frankly insane tactic that Mags had decided to employ, he watched as a scarily familiar glowing blue orb the size of a softball flew towards the Grimm from outside of Nathan's peripheral vision. It tumbled neatly through the air, before coming to a rest on the Spider's forehead. It only took a microsecond for his brain to process what it was, as the orb began to rapidly glow brighter.

"Grenade!" Nathan shouted.

With Mags about to run into what he knew was a live explosive, he made the split-second call to shoulder-check her to the ground, preventing her from getting any closer to what would have otherwise certainly killed her. The Spider Grimm panicked and screeched as the plasma scorched into its forehead, before detonating in a brilliant blue and white light, with the resulting EMP momentarily disrupting Nathan's HUD before it recovered.

Unlike with a traditional grenade, plasma grenades typically had their smoke clear from the air quite quickly, making it quite apparent that the Grimm Spider had been blown out of existence.

"Ugh… thanks Nathan." Mags said. He returned the favor that he had given to her and pulled her back up to her feet.

But before Nathan could even reload his weapons, he heard a terrible screaming from behind him, distinctly that of a human. He and Mags turned to see that Corporal Kerry had been grabbed onto by two unusually large Centinels, both of which had bitten down upon his torso. Nathan saw the shimmering light that represented the last of Kerry's Aura snap out of existence, before the Grimm started tunneling their way through his armor, despite the Helljumper's best efforts to fight them off.

Recognizing that neither of his guns would be of use without ammo, Nathan withdrew his combat knife from its sheath on his chest and tackled the larger of the two Centinels. He tried to pull the creature off of his squadmate, but the damned thing was the size of himself, so it was a losing battle from the start. Undeterred, Nathan got a solid grip on the Centinels armor plating with one hand and used the stability to jab his knife into the creature's exposed flesh with the other.

Much to Nathan's relief, his action caused the Grimm to let go of Kerry and screech in pain, before it turned its attention towards him. At least a dozen of its horrible insectoid limbs prodded away at him, trying to find a way through either his Aura or his armor, as Nathan did the only thing that he could think to do, and that was to hold on tightly and keep stabbing away.

The world around him became a blur of various colors of light as ODSTs, Spartans, Mags, and the Grimm all blended together as Nathan and the Centinel rolled around on the ground, frantically trying to kill one another. The sounds of gunfire intensified around him, and although Nathan was hopeful that help had arrived, he did not lift his attention from the fight at hand. Eventually, someone beside him managed to get a clear shot at the Centinel, and blew it apart with a small burst of automatic gunfire.

Nathan collapsed face-first onto the Argus street with a groan of pain as the Centinel disappeared into smoke. He only took a split-second to rest, before rising up to his feet once more, and as he looked around, he saw that all of the Grimm had either been killed or driven off. Jorge was leading Peggy and Kowalski in an effort to hunt down the survivors while Ben and Mags were crouched down around something.

Nathan retrieved his pistol, finding it thankfully in one piece, reloaded it, and went to join his two squadmates. As soon as he recognized what they were looking at, Nathan picked up the pace.

"Woah woah woah…" Nathan said as he practically broke out into a full run, before coming to a halt beside his squadmates. "Oh no, come on…"

Kerry's chestpiece had been physically torn off of the rest of his suit, and the resulting wounds that the Centinels had managed to inflict on him were monstrous. A spent can of biofoam beside him indicated that Ben had done his best, but the biometrics readout on Nathan's HUD listed Kerry as KIA nonetheless.

Nathan took a deep breath to calm himself down, before letting it out in a broken, jumbled exhale. "Goddamnit!"

Mags shook her head sadly, in spite of her having barely known the man, losing someone that you had been trying to save was always hard. Ben didn't seem to react, in fact, he seemed to have frozen entirely in place, his visor still looking at Kerry's lifeless helmet.

"I was so goddamn close… fuck!" Nathan shouted.

"There was nothing you could do." Ben emotionlessly said before he finally moved. He retrieved Kerry's Dog Tags and placed them into one of his pouches, where Nathan noticed he had two more, both of a Marine disposition.

Once he had retrieved the objects, Ben stood up and trekked over to where Jorge, Kowalski, and Peggy were regrouping. Nathan and Mags only spared a few seconds, before she too stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Come on Helljumper, we've still got people to save." Mags gently said. Nathan picked up on her effort to use the bit of UNSC dialect, which was something that he appreciated, even if it failed to snap him out of the shock at having lost yet another squadmate.

_This damn planet's picking us off one-by-one..._ Nathan bleakly thought.

He spared one last glance at Kerry's lifeless body before he too stood up. "Yeah… let's go."

**UNSC Dominion**

**October 15th, 1525 Local Time, 2552**

Curie listened over the radio as the Dominion's pilots began to struggle with the odds they were facing. Most UNSC pilots were actually used to outnumbering their Covenant counterparts, rather, it was the technological gap that they struggled to overcome. To that end, the vast swarm of individually-insignificant but still dangerous Grimm proved difficult to deal with for them.

Curie ran calculation after calculation through her systems, aiding not only the Point-Defense cannons but now beginning to sparingly use Archer Missiles to pick off priority targets one-by-one. Richard had authorized her two more pods to use, and she was very well aware that none of these missiles would be replaceable for some time.

All the while, she felt a wave of powerful anger that guided her actions. This wasn't like before, where the Dominion had been too far away for her to help, now, she was in the thick of the action, and she revelled in the fighting. No longer was she calm and collected, now, she lashed out at any Grimm that dared to even go near to Argus or the Dominion, destroying them with missiles and cannons alike.

The Archer Missiles in particular frequently obliterated dozens of Grimm in a single strike, forcing them to loosen their formations accordingly. Curie responded by carefully timing the warheads to explode even before they reached a target, bursting in the air and killing large numbers of Grimm at once, all at the cost of further processing power.

_I must be more efficient..._ Curie thought to herself. She purged another seven-hundred subroutines and redirected the extra processing power to the fight.

"Break right on my mark Husker! You've got a bogey closing on you!" The Squad Leader of Voodoo Squadron ordered one of his subordinates over their TEAMCOM. He then proceeded to coordinate with two more of his fellow Sabre Pilots to perform a formationless and extremely-complex maneuver around one-another, which allowed them to deliver a salvo of Medusa Missiles into their targets at close range, ensuring that every missile hit its mark.

Curie followed up on their maneuver with a volley from three of the Dominion's Point-Defense Turrets, killing all of the Grimm that sought to exploit the Sabre's momentary vulnerability. By now, all of them were using their flak ammunition, using high-explosive projectiles configured to explode when they were nearby to their target. Thankfully, it proved devastating to the Grimm, who seemed to have a weakness to high-explosive weaponry as a whole.

_It would be wise to make note of that._ Curie thought. She sent a subroutine out to add a brief note to her ever-growing list of observations about the Grimm, before returning her focus to the battle, only to realize that she was, once again, approaching the upper limits of her processing capabilities.

Curie broke off a single subroutine to examine her own processing capabilities, which would tell her how long she would have before she reached the red line of her capabilities. The task returned to her with frustrating results, in less than thirty seconds, she would reach the upper ceiling of her processing capabilities. To any average human, it was no time at all, but with the faster cognitive capabilities that A.I possessed, Curie had plenty of time to devise a solution to continue functioning in spite of the lingering deadline.

She opened her list of subprocesses and examined what she could discard, but frowned as she saw that all of them were in some way essential to the battle at hand. Every other process that she had been running, from her efforts to modernize Remnant's digital infrastructure, to her efforts to decode a handful of encrypted files from the Office of Naval Intelligence that had piqued her curiosity, had either been paused or discarded entirely. The significance of this was that Curie could not dispose of any of her remaining programs without in some way impacting their odds of victory.

The clock was constantly ticking down from its current mark of twenty-two seconds, when it reached zero, she would reach one-hundred and one percent processor usage, something that she had been taught to avoid at all costs. Although Curie wasn't entirely sure what would happen if she went over her own processing power limits, it was safe to guess that it would be very bad for her. Still, she had always held a morbid curiosity about what would happen, and yet, basic self-preservation had always kept that curiosity at bay.

Briefly, Curie considered sending some of the tasks to the Bridge Crew of the remaining Atlesian Cruiser, the Airship Perseus, in order to reduce her own workload. However, the entire bridge crew of the vessel was listed as wounded, and with the crew still struggling to keep the airship flying, it was effectively no-longer combat-capable. Sending additional tasks to the bridge crew of the Dominion itself was also not an option. Curie had already shunted a large number of assignments onto them, and adding those on top of the orders given to them by Commander Richard, they were already at their own limits.

Deeply frustrated by her lack of progress and her lingering deadline, Curie ran through her remaining options. She could try to send some of the tasks to the Atlesian Base, but most of their officers were already either dead or overwhelmed by the battle. And so, with no capable help in sight, Curie was left with two final choices.

Firstly, she could purge a number of her assignments, likely those related to weapon targeting, and leave the human gunnery crews of the Dominion, as well as Lieutenant Gage, to handle the swarms of Grimm without her assistance. Although they could certainly operate all of the Dominion's systems without her assistance, the reduction in target-acquisition and accuracy could cost the Dominion potential damage, perhaps even casualties.

The other option, however, was equally unappealing. She could do nothing, and deliberately overstrain her processing capabilities to accomplish everything that was needed of her, the consequences of doing so be damned. Although she was certain that it would certainly be unpleasant, it would also allow her to answer that lingering question about what would happen to her if she overstrained herself, something that even her creators had not known.

As the clock reached the ten-second mark, Richard's words echoed in her ears. "Do whatever you have to do to keep us going Curie, Argus needs us."

With no small amount of doubt, Curie thought briefly about the terrified civilians that were sheltered within the Military Base. She thought about all of the Marines and Atlesian Soldiers and Huntsmen on the ground, and she thought about the crew on the Dominion, and how they all needed her help. But still, she felt a heavy sense of reluctance for what she was preparing herself to do.

And then she thought about Ben, and all at once, her doubts vanished. Although it would hurt Curie's pride to fail any task, it would hurt her worse if Ben became harmed due to her failure to act.

_I should warn the Commander, there is certainly a risk that this could backfire, but the stakes demand it._ Curie thought. She took control of her hologram and turned to face him.

"Commander, I'm going to need to overload my systems to keep operating, you may notice some slight discrepancies in a few moments." Curie stated. Whatever Richard responded with, she was too busy to hear it, as the clock reached zero. Her processor usage reached a new milestone, one hundred and one percent.

At first, nothing changed, and then all at once, she felt a sensation unlike that she had ever felt before. It felt deeply unpleasant, and she was so shocked that she cried out in surprise as the sensation spread throughout her being.

The unpleasant sensation intensified immensely, causing her to search for a solution, an explanation as to what exactly it was that she was feeling and how to make it stop, before out of nowhere, a long-buried natural instinct told her exactly what she was feeling.

_Pain, physical pain._ Curie thought. For a brief moment, her instincts to banish the feeling subsided, and her curiosity led her to simply experience the new feeling for a moment, marveling at a genuine sense of touch, the first she had ever felt.

_This is what humans feel when they are hurt?_ Curie thought, suddenly recognizing why so much of human history was built around an effort to end suffering.

Another burst of the dreadful sensation snapped her out of her momentary stupor. It didn't take even a moment's thought to determine what was causing her harm, and with no small amount of reluctance, Curie cut-off all of her targeting support to the Dominion's point-defense cannons. From now on, the gunnery crews would be on their own, but she would no longer be overloading herself.

Immediately after she did so, the sensation of pain vanished, and Curie breathed a sigh of relief. Once again, she was operating within normal parameters, and she could no longer feel any physical sensations. But something was… off, and it took her a moment to decipher exactly what it was that had happened, and when she realized what had happened, she cried out in a mix of shock and fear.

A tiny portion of her, barely a few strands of code, was now completely gone. In its place was nothing but corrupted code and dead neural linkages. For a moment, she felt paralyzed with fear, she'd only seen damage like that once before.

_Rampant scripting… _She realized, before she realized that Commander Richard was trying to speak to her.

"Curie, Curie can you hear me?" He asked, his tone indicating not for the first time. His eyes were wide with concern, but beyond that, he betrayed no emotion. "Are you okay?"

For a moment, she pondered how to best respond to him. Obviously, she could not hide the truth about what had happened, but in the midst of a grander battle, explaining everything would take time and focus away from him.

"I believe some of my capabilities have been compromised, and I have been damaged." Curie reported. "But I'm okay, don't worry."

Richard's reaction was very reserved, but Curie could sense that panic was threatening to take hold of him. In spite of his obvious fears, he took a deep breath and issued a brief response. "Do what you can, but play it safe, we'll discuss this once Argus is safe."

"Aye Sir." Curie replied.

In spite of her regret in doing so, Curie shifted some of her tasks to the Dominion's staff and focused on what she could effectively manage without overloading herself. With a fearful glance, she re-examined the small, rampant part of her, and terrifyingly, it looked to be slightly larger than it had been before, if only by a single line of code.

In an unashamed panic, she quarantined the entire section of her assembly, and returned to her duties, doing her best not to think about it.


	50. Chapter 50

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 15th, 1527 Local Time, 2552**

Richard only allowed himself a moment to breathe, whatever it was that had happened with Curie, it would need to wait until the battle was over. Whether he liked it or not, there was just nothing he could do at the moment. The remaining flying Grimm, particularly the scattered remains of the massive swarm of Lancers, had begun one final attack, a desperate bid to sweep away the last line of defenders over Argus. With the Atlesian forces all but destroyed and forced into the reserve, only the UNSC remained in the skies to dance with the Grimm.

_Lord knows the Atlesians put up a fight…_ Richard solemnly thought, the destroyed remains of two Atlesian Cruisers, a Colossus, and dozens of smaller Gunships now littering the area around Argus, a testament to the valiant struggle that the Atlesians had put up in defense of their city.

And yet, victory was now within their grasp. As far as Richard could tell, this was the last of the Grimm in the air, if they were killed, the UNSC would be free to focus their attention on finishing the battle on the ground. But the sudden strike of the Lancer swarm had proven that the Grimm had the ability to bring up reinforcements without warning, and Richard was consciously aware that it could happen again.

"Lancers have closed to two-hundred meters off our port side." Lieutenant Chen warned. "They're launching something!"

_Acid._ Richard recognized. He felt no impact throughout the Dominion as the globs of bright orange fluid impacted into the Dominion's Hull, but he hadn't expected too. The kinetic force wasn't what made the acid dangerous, it was the corrosive effect.

Although Richard couldn't actually see the point of the impact, the Dominion had countless instruments dedicated to judging the damage dealt by enemy weapons, so the crew weren't entirely blind. "Bradford, damage report!"

Once again, his Executive Officer came through with a speedy reply. "All impacts hit the Dorsal Hull, around the MAC system. Armor in those sections is holding strong, but it'll be vulnerable to more strikes."

Richard turned to face him directly, erasing all evidence of doubt from his features. "Could they penetrate the armor if they hit it again?"

"There's no reason to assume they couldn't, but they would need to focus on one point," Bradford answered.

_Goddamnit, they don't even need to break the armor. Whatever they can weaken, we can't replace!_ Richard thought, painfully aware of the lack of any UNSC drydock on Remnant, or even a sizable titanium industry. Whatever wounds the Dominion suffered at Argus would likely remain largely unfixed for some time. "Alert Damage Control to standby status, we might need them if this keeps up."

"Aye Sir." Bradford replied. He did an admirable job of hiding his concern, but Richard could tell that beneath his stony exterior, he was just as worried as Richard was.

He spared a glance back at the holotable, wondering if Curie could perhaps spare something to help the gunnery crews in their efforts to hold the Lancers back, but discounted the thought after only a moment's consideration. If Curie truly had sustained damage, he did not want her doing anything remotely strenuous, even if that meant that the crew of the Dominion were operating on their own. All UNSC equipment could obviously be manually operated, but without the assistance of a Smart A.I, it typically took much longer to complete complex tasks.

Briefly, Richard spared a glance at the status monitor for all of the Dominion's auxiliary craft, almost afraid of what he might see. Thankfully, it seemed that casualties were a bit lighter than he expected, with only four total aircraft shot down, two Hornet VTOL Attack Craft, and both of the Dominion's Sparrowhawks. He resisted the urge to flinch at the loss of the Sparrowhawks, those aircraft were considered costly to produce in UNSC space, it wasn't much of a stretch to write them off as totally irreplaceable.

_At least their pilots made it._ Richard thought, noticing with a pang of sadness that neither of the Hornet pilots had managed to eject, and were both listed as KIA.

Pretty much every other aircraft in the fight had suffered some sort of damage, except for the Sabres, which had their powerful energy shields to thank for their continued survival. It seemed that overall, however, the UNSC's aircraft performed spectacularly. Richard had been worried about the amount of ammunition that they could carry, but it seemed that his worry had been misplaced.

The Dominion rumbled slightly beneath his feet, shaking him back into the present. He looked to Bradford for an explanation. "Lieutenant?"

"Misfire from Battery Six Sir, it's inoperable, but nobody was wounded." Bradford quickly answered. "Batteries Four and Seven report no ammo left in the autoloaders, they'll need time to bring up more from the magazines."

Richard resisted the urge to rub his temples in frustration. It seemed as if the Dominion was losing her ability to fight, just as victory was in sight.

"Commander, you should pull the ship back." General Ironwood interjected. He was still manning the communications station, coordinating the forces on the ground as they fought to secure Argus.

"We can't." Richard immediately replied. "We've still got hundreds of contacts in the air, the ground forces will be torn apart without us."

"Batteries One and Two have depleted their autoloaders." Bradford warned, only momentarily interjecting before returning to his work.

Ironwood gestured toward Bradford as if trying to prove a point. "The troops on the ground aren't helpless Commander, the situation has stabilized dramatically. They can handle this themselves. That way you could take a minute to breathe, get your ship back into fighting shape."

_If he thinks we're not in fighting shape, he's dead wrong._ Richard thought. He'd personally witnessed UNSC warships go through ten times what the Dominion was experiencing and come out both intact and victorious.

Richard briefly considered his options, if he was going to finish off the Grimm without significant loss, he would need to use his remaining resources very carefully.

The obvious answer was to stand and fight, cover the ground forces as they finished the fight in Argus. There was no doubt in Richard's mind that the Dominion could certainly keep going, and certainly win, but the damage it would take in the process might cause problems in the future. He wasn't foolish enough to assume that this was the last battle that the UNSC would be forced to fight, and humanity didn't have any other Starships to call upon.

Moreover, if the Dominion's Point-Defense Guns were starting to deplete their available ammunition, it would mean that they would be forced to employ their Archer Missiles as a substitute, which were currently irreplaceable. Perhaps if he could put together some kind of plan to buy the gunnery crews more time to retrieve fresh ammunition from the Dominion's reserves, they could spare their precious missiles, but Richard couldn't think of anything that would do that.

On the other hand, if the Dominion pulled back, the Grimm in the air would probably target the nearer ground forces, which would certainly hamper their efforts, likely inflicting further casualties in the process. There was also the possibility that the Grimm would pursue the Dominion, and in doing so, remove Richard's ability to make a decision of this manner at all.

For a split second, he internally cursed his position of Command, that such a brutal decision had been thrust upon him. Did he risk sacrificing some of his Marines in order to potentially gain a long-term strategic advantage? Or did he stand and fight, and risk the UNSC's capabilities in future battles? Either way, the risk was immense, and there was no time for him to make an informed decision.

His mind flashed with images of failures from his past, despite his best efforts to filter them out. He saw glassed worlds, both by the Covenant, and by atomic fire, always from the viewport of an ONI prowler. For a brief moment, Richard was afraid that he would lose his composure and snap, but with every ounce of his willpower, he snapped himself back into the present, back to the decision he would need to make.

_This isn't about you, or the Marines._ Richard reluctantly told himself, his gaze steadily drifting towards the holotable. Specifically, the tiny representation of the Atlesian Military base and all of the horrified civilians sheltering inside.

Richard fought the urge to let out a deep sigh. He was well aware that this decision would likely haunt him later, but he'd made countless decisions just like it in the past. "Negative, we're holding our ground. Gage, lift all restrictions for the Archer Missiles and fire at your discretion, prioritize any target that breaks our defensive web!"

"Aye Sir!" Gage replied.

Bradford gave him a silent worried glance, as if to ask if Richard was sure about his decision. Despite his own personal thoughts, Richard gave him a confident nod, which seemed to ease his feelings of doubt. Even if he was deeply conflicted and afraid for the future, he had to put on a show of confidence, if only for the sake of his crew.

_You could still run, let the Marines carry the burden._ A cynical part of Richard's brain told him, but he banished it into the darkest corner of his mind. He'd left too many people to die in the past, and he'd killed too many others to count, but that didn't mean he didn't have the power to do the right thing now.

Even if he hadn't had the power to do the right thing in the past.

**Argus**

**October 15th, 1540 Local Time, 2552**

While the Marines and Atlesians triaged their wounded and cleaned up the remaining Grimm in Argus, Onyx Team took up positions just outside of the Main Gate, acting as a safeguard against any further Grimm reinforcements.

Stationing such a small unit to guard such a critical chokepoint was normally a very bad idea. But with a long line of open sight, long-range weapons, and a narrow corridor to work the Grimm through as a fallback option, Jorge was confident in his team's ability to repel any Grimm attack.

Smaller Grimm would occasionally try to sneak through, but they were all killed with ease. In a way, they reminded Jorge of how the Elites and Brutes would use their Grunts as little more than cannon fodder as they prepared a grander strategy. On a hunch, he decided to examine some of the larger Grimm in the distance, and see if perhaps the Grimm were unintentionally mimicking the tactic.

What Jorge noticed, however, was a strange change in the behavior of the Grimm. The Goliaths that had once been storming towards Argus with a vengeful fury were now holding their position, as if observing the battle. In fact, most of the larger Grimm were now showing some hesitation in their advance, something that left Jorge with a mix of reassurance and worry.

_That's strange, I wonder what they're waiting for?_ Jorge thought.

"Mags, come up here for a moment." Jorge instructed.

The Huntress in question got back onto her feet and made her way to his entrenched fighting position, carrying her truly ludicrous cannon-weapon along with her. But in spite of her unusual appearance, she had proved her value in a fight a hundred times over, and her expertise on the Grimm was invaluable.

Of all the non-military people that Jorge had ever worked with, Mags was potentially the most capable, which was certainly high praise, considering the large number of local forces he had worked with in the past. She reminded him of a lot of the militiamen that he had fought alongside, particularly during the early years of the war, with the rest of the Spartan IIs. She even seemed to have some experience with ranking structures, perhaps hinting at some experience in a military force.

"What's on your mind Lieutenant?" Mags asked as she took up a position next to him.

Jorge pointed at some of the Goliaths in the distance, who almost seemed to be looking back at him. "Those larger Grimm out there, why aren't they attacking?"

She gazed upon the distant black monoliths with a wariness that quickly spread to Jorge. "If I had to guess, they're older, smarter. They know that attacking right now is suicide, what with the Dominion overhead."

_Smarter?_ Jorge noted. He and the UNSC had known that the Grimm could become more intelligent, but this wasn't what they had expected at all. He had been led to believe the Grimm were very animalistic, with the more intelligent of the Grimm simply possessing more apt problem-solving capabilities. Were the Grimm actually capable of complex strategic maneuvers? _That would explain why they made such a surprise attack in the first place..._

Whatever the case, Mags would likely be able to shed further light on it. "When you say smarter, do you mean that they have some kind of command structure or some sort of overarching strategy?"

Mags shook her head in response. "I couldn't say, but frankly, I wouldn't be surprised. If the older Grimm can command the younger ones… it answers a lot about their behavior overall."

_The Commander is going to want to hear about that, I should report it in._ Jorge thought. But before he could even switch radio frequencies, Ben called something out over TEAMCOM.

"We've got movement, two o-clock, three hundred meters out." Ben warned, prompting all of Onyx Team back to alert. "Can't get a fix on it, but I'm guessing more burrowers."

_Looks like the Commander is going to need to wait._ Jorge thought, mildly annoyed at the sudden turn in events.

Ben had placed a marker on the HUD of every squad member who had one, making it easy for Jorge to acquire a visual on what he was pointing out. When Jorge increased the zoom on his visor, he spotted nothing of note at first, before he noticed that the ground was shifting slightly as he continued to observe the point.

"The ground's shifting." Jorge warned his squadmates, confirming Ben's suspicions. "Looks like we're about to get contact, eyes up everyone."

The Grimm that could burrow underground had proven to be some of the most dangerous, if only because it made ambushes practically impossible to predict. Normally, a long line of sight and an advanced motion tracker would mean that Jorge could confidently assume any Grimm approaching would be visible and easy to target. But if they were underground, he simply couldn't predict when they would attack, especially given how fast they moved. It had been that unpredictability that had gotten Corporal Kerry killed, and Jorge was not about to fail anyone else under his command.

He shifted to the Command frequency using his Neural Lace. "Zulu Actual, this is Onyx, do you read?"

It took an extra moment for Lieutenant Clark to respond, and when he did, Jorge could tell he wasn't in the best health. His voice was raspy and weary, and he sounded out of breath, but he still followed proper radio protocol. "Solid copy Onyx, send traffic."

"We have eyes on Grimm tunneling towards our position and need some extra firepower, do you have any assets available to assist?" Jorge said. In the distance, the ground shifted again, this time a few meters closer.

_They're going quickly._ Jorge realized. Whatever support Clark had to offer, it would need to arrive fast.

"You're in luck, Sierra. Crusader Company just finished clearing out Town Square, I'll send them up to your position." Clark said. "ETA five minutes, and I'll have Warthogs at your position in three, see you then."

There was no better news that Jorge could have hoped for. Crusader Company was composed of all of the Dominion's armored vehicles, and Jorge knew that Scorpions and Grizzlies would have little difficulty killing practically any Grimm. But the Grimm would reach them before backup did and as such, Onyx Team would need to hold out until then.

"Solid copy on all, Zulu." Jorge replied. "We'll hold the door for you."

"See that you do, I have no interest in capturing that wall twice in one day." Clark said before he closed the transmission.

_I suppose I can empathize with that._ Jorge thought. He had no idea how Zulu Company was faring, but it was safe to assume that they had suffered at the very least moderate losses.

"More movement, twelve o'clock, in the shrubline about half a klick out." Ben announced. "Looks like it's something big, and it's moving fast. It looked kind of tubular, if that makes any sense."

"King Taijitu." Mags interjected. Apparently Ben's description had been enough to at least place a guess at identifying the Grimm. "Kill it before it gets close, at least, if you still have anything left in that Laser of yours."

"One shot, and at that range, it'll hit." Ben replied before he turned to Jorge. "Sir, permission to engage?"

"Denied." Jorge replied. "Reinforcements are inbound, and if that thing's being lazy, let's not encourage it."

The ground shifted again, this time it was about two hundred meters out, and closing rapidly. There was a faint rumble in the ground, although that could just as easily have been caused by the firing of the Dominion's guns into the hilly forests around Argus.

"Lancers, coming in for a run!" Nathan suddenly called out.

Jorge looked upwards to where Nathan had marked on the squad's HUDs. A dozen Lancers were closing in, all of them carrying sacs of acid. The ground rumbled again, this time Jorge was certain that it was the burrowing Grimm causing the sensation, nevertheless, the Lancers took priority.

"Weapons free!" Jorge ordered.

He brought Etilka to bear in the blink of an eye and held the trigger down, creating a familiar rumble in his gauntlets as the recoil-compensation mechanism attempted to keep his aim as steady as possible. High-velocity explosive ammunition impacted on wings, carapaces, and even the face of one particularly unfortunate Lancer, causing the Grimm to scatter as the one that Jorge had killed fell to the ground and dissipated.

While Jorge forced the Lancers to evade erratically to avoid being hit, the rest of the squad began picking off opportune targets. Nathan sniped one out of the air, Ben shot down another with his plasma rifle, and Mags fired some kind of airburst shell out of Tasman, which exploded in the middle of the Lancer's formation and wounded practically all of them. As the last Lancer was killed and began to unceremoniously vanish, Jorge saw the ground shift again, much closer than he had anticipated.

_It was a diversion!_ Jorge realized. "Incoming, burrowers!"

His warning came just in time as the first batch of Centinels erupted from the ground, only to be torn apart by the coordinated fire of Onyx Team. Now that they had won a few skirmishes with the creatures, they understood how the creatures moved, making them relatively predictable. Gaps in armor were targeted with precise shots, meaning that in most cases, the Centinels were typically dead after only a few rounds spent.

In many ways, they reminded Jorge of the Skirmishers that he had fought previously, on Reach and many other planets. They moved erratically and attacked when it was least expected. They seemed to have some vague coordination, but it was nowhere close to the same level that other Grimm like the Lancers or the Beowolves had displayed.

While Onyx Team was busy facing off against the Centinels, Jorge spotted a new movement in the distant shrubline. The King Taijitu had moved out of the shrubline and begun to rush towards the Gate, worse still, it was not alone, as a second emerged from the shrubs to follow the first.

At the same time, the ground parted a small distance away from Jorge, revealing one of the large Spider Grimm that Mags had called a 'Recluse.' Jorge shifted his fire to the closer threat, and much to his relief, his explosive ammo proved exceptionally useful in snapping the armored legs of the Recluse into splinters, to the point where the creature's limbs resembled broken twigs. A long burst into the creature's horrible maw was enough to finish it off, causing it to disappear without too much of a fight.

_It seems like explosives tend to do the job best._ Jorge noted, as it had only taken a small number of rounds to kill what would otherwise have been a worryingly capable opponent.

A quick glance around confirmed that Onyx Team had finished off the rest of the Centinels, leaving only the King Taijitus as a threat. Ben had also spotted them and readied his Laser to fire.

"Stand clear!" Ben warned as he charged the weapon, and fired a beam of red light through the foremost King Taijitu, reducing it to ash even before it began to disappear. "Laser's out!"

"I'll handle the other." Mags said.

But as she moved to load some sort of special cannonball into her weapon, a blue projectile came racing through the Gate to Argus from behind them, before smashing into the King Taijitu at breakneck speeds, tunneling completely through the Grimm and killing it immediately.

_Gauss Cannon._ Jorge recognized, even before the Warthog came rolling through the Gate, the barrel of the M68 still faintly smoking. The lead Warthog was quickly followed by two more, one with an M41 Rotary Cannon, and the other with an extended troop bay. The Troop-Carrier Warthog parked next to the position that Onyx Team had established, and a squad of Marines dismounted, led by Lieutenant Clark.

Clark had clearly sustained some kind of wound, judging by the bloody bandage wrapped around his head to cover his right eye. But he still walked over to Jorge's position in spite of the obvious injury. "Sitrep?"

"That was the last of the Grimm over here Sir, the rest of them are staying back." Jorge answered. Even though Lieutenant Clark was technically the same rank as him, his position as acting C.O of Zulu Company left him as the Superior Officer.

"Staying back?" He scoffed in response. "Since when did the Grimm get reasonable?"

"Apparently since they learned that we can beat them." Jorge replied.

"Hmm, quite." Clark half-heartedly replied as he used his set of binoculars to inspect the Grimm in distance. "Okay, here's our plan, we'll move up the Tanks and Cobras to the outskirts here and mop up the survivors, then we'll let the Hornets mop up all those big bastards out there."

"Where do we come into all this, Lieutenant?" Jorge asked.

"Hold here and kill anything dumb enough to get close." Clark replied, before his headset chirped, informing him that someone was trying to talk to him over the radio. "Just a moment."

Jorge gave him a silent nod of compliance as he ran a quick inspection of his Team. Ben was spotting for Nathan as he picked off some of the lingering Lancers in the air, while Kowalski and Peggy were taking the moment to catch their breath. Mags was unashamedly ogling the Warthogs and the weapons systems they carried, even as more began to arrive, followed shortly by the first Grizzly tank.

"Hey, what the hell Sierra, you said there would be bad guys out here!" One of the tankers jokingly complained as they passed by.

_It's good to see at least some of the Marines are still enjoying themselves._ Jorge thought, before Clark gestured for his attention again.

"Just got off the horn with General Ironwood, he says he needs your team for a Special Assignment." Clark explained.

"What about the rest of the Grimm around Argus?" Jorge asked. He was wary of the Atlesian General, but not unwilling to follow his orders, within reason.

"It's related to that, apparently. Fireball's coming by to pick your Team up, be ready for pickup in three minutes." Clark answered. "Oh, and Lieutenant? Don't worry about us out here, we'll clean up the rest of these things."

Jorge nodded. "Affirmative Sir."

**Argus Radar Station**

**October 15th, 1554 Local Time, 2552**

A lone Beowulf leapt past Winter's force of summoned, spectral Grimm, making it only two steps closer before Fairfire blasted it in half with her trusty shotgun. Their mission to protect the ruins of the Radar station had been going quite well.

"Bit off a little more than you could chew, eh boy?!" She taunted at the dissolving Beowulf. Characteristic of the dead, it didn't react. That didn't stop Fairfire from giving a small chuckle, though.

"Stay focused!" Winter chastised her. Even as she spoke, she ran her sword through the shoulder of an Ursa, before using her second blade to finish off the Grimm.

_Who puts a sword inside of their other sword?_ Fairfire thought, before realizing that perhaps that wasn't the most pressing matter at hand.

"More Grimm!" Winter called out.

True to her words, half a dozen Creeps crawled into the clearing through the underbrush. Fairfire killed three of them by slam-firing her shotgun and finished off the wounded survivors with headshots from her pistol. "Clear! Where the hell do these things keep coming from?!"

A Boarbatusk tried to interrupt Winter as she engaged in a heated melee with an Ursa. Without even looking, she summoned a glyph beneath the feet of the Grimm, causing a large icicle to emerge from the ground, impaling it through the torso and raising it off the ground before it died. "They must be retreating from Argus!"

Fairfire backed up to close the distance between her and Winter. "And they're running into us on the way out…"

"Our mission still takes priority, preserve your ammunition, this might get uncomfortable." Winter instructed.

Just as Fairfire finished reloading, another Grimm emerged from the treeline without warning, a Manticore. It was one of the larger Grimm that she'd seen so far, and resembled the mythological creature for which it was named.

At the same time, Winter was attacked by a pair of Lancers from above, which she engaged using her summoned Grimm. Swarms of tiny spectral Nevermores ferociously tore at the flesh of the giant insectoid Grimm, and Fairfire was more than confident that Winter could handle the situation herself.

The Manticore seemed to notice that Winter was occupied and moved to attack her, but Fairfire stood in its way and fired a round of buckshot into its face. One of its horns was snapped off entirely, and its bone mask was cracked and broken in numerous points. One of its eyes went dim, causing it to roar in fury.

The Manticore retaliated by launching what could only be described as a fireball out of its mouth. Fairfire was completely blindsided by the attack and was thrown backwards by the impact of the projectile. Her Aura managed to keep any of the flames from doing anything beyond stinging, but there was no way that Fairfire could handle many more hits like that.

The Manticore rushed towards her on all fours, preparing to pounce and finish her off. As it closed the distance, Fairfire tried to repeat what she had done with the Beringel and tapped into her Semblance. From what she could tell, it seemed to be fueled by some kind of instinct to survive, perhaps a panic-fueled emotion of some sort, maybe even fear. Whatever the case, her Semblance took the reins once more and commanded her to wait until the perfect moment to fire.

She racked the slide on her shotgun, loading a fresh shell, and braced herself into a firing position. Climbing to her feet would take too much time, so instead, she focused entirely on positioning the weapon exactly as her Semblance instructed her too. There was a brief moment of doubt in her mind that a Grimm of that size could be stopped by a single shot. She'd seen Brute Chieftains survive worse and keep fighting, but her instinct to wait remained, as if reassuring her that its plan would work.

The Manticore closed to only a meter away, and Fairfire's instincts told her to fire. Once more, her shotgun released a deafening sound that would normally be expected of a considerably larger gun, and the Manticore's armor and flesh were mangled inwards as the buckshot tore it apart. It was as if the Manticore had been shot at with a Canister Shell from the main cannon of a Scorpion, not something as small as an infantryman's shotgun.

The Manticore dissipated even before it hit the ground, freeing Fairfire to get back up to her feet and check on Winter. It seemed that several more Lancers had joined the fight against her, but Winter had developed a surprisingly effective strategy to protect her from the barrage of acid that was being levied against her. Using deflection Glyphs, she was able to not only protect herself, but attack the Lancers with their own acidic weaponry.

Fairfire drew her sidearm to help pick off the Lancers, but was quickly forced to look after herself as another Grimm descended from above. It resembled a large Nevermore, but possessed a more rigidly-defined raptor-like feet, each of which had four massive talons. It landed on the ruins of the Radar Tower, and stared at her with horrible yellow eyes. A chill ran down her spine in spite of the adrenaline in her veins and her conditioned training, but Fairfire kept her fear under control.

"Corporal, stay back!" Winter shouted. Deferring to the Specialist's greater experience, Fairfire steadily retreated, not stopping even as she fired a pair of shotgun shells at the giant bird, although the range was too great even for a UNSC-made scattergun to do much more than annoy it. "That is an Elder Nevermore, you cannot take that on by yourself!"

Fairfire nodded. She was now standing behind Winter, not taking her eyes off the Nevermore while Winter watched her back against the Lancers. "What's the plan?"

"We can't fight it directly." Winter answered. Even as she redirected the acid of a Lancer back into its face, she spoke as if she was having a calm discussion with a coworker. "It won't attack us, we just need to hold our ground!"

A Creep burst from the treeline, only to be blown into a fine powder by a rapid-reaction shot from Fairfire. "What? Why won't it attack us?"

"It summons Grimm to itself!" Winter explained. Fairfire could tell she was starting to struggle somewhat, so turned around and suppressed the Lancers with her shotgun for a moment, hoping to offer Winter a moment of respite. "Watch my back, I have this under control!"

"Yes ma'am!" Fairfire responded. She turned back towards the Elder Nevermore, and true to what Winter had said, it wasn't attacking. It simply stared at her, with a glare of absolute malice that she had only ever seen in the eyes of Covenant Warriors.

More Grimm began to pour out of the woodworks. Beowolves, Ursas, Creeps, smaller Nevermores, the bat-like Ravagers, and even some kind of hairy ape-like Grimm that reminded her of a Brute. She met all of them with the same response, a blast of eight-gauge magnum buckshot that scattered them to the breeze. But as more Grimm approached and fell before her gun, Fairfire quickly noted a problem that was rapidly manifesting itself.

"Two mags left!" Fairfire called out. "I'm running low with my pistol too!"

"Hold your ground, there can't be many more of these things!" Winter responded as she finally killed the last of the Lancers. She turned her attention towards the Nevermores in the sky, killing them either with Glyphs or with her own summoned Nevermores.

Once again, Fairfire turned her attention to the Elder Grimm, and to her surprise, her Semblance activated once more, this time without her wishing it to. This time, the command it issued her was different to what it had previously demanded of her, and that was to use one of her grenades.

_It might be enough to kill it…_ Fairfire thought, the instinct growing louder in her mind, as if insisting that she follow it's plan, and not Winter's defensive strategy.

Subconsciously, she was aware that this wasn't her own strategic decision, and that her Semblance was now acting on its own and issuing her a set of specific and simple instructions. She fought against it for a moment, before realizing that there was nothing she could do to stop her body from moving to answer the command.

"Winter, I'm throwing a grenade, stay clear of the tower!" Fairfire shouted, even as she primed her frag grenade.

"No, wait-" Winter interjected, but it was too late, the grenade had already been thrown.

The Elder Nevermore didn't even try to move out of the way as the small metal object landed near its feet. Instead, it stared at the grenade, almost curious of what it might do, before it detonated, spraying hot shrapnel throughout the clearing, along with the shockwave from the blast. The Nevermore vanished momentarily in a puff of smoke, and when the smoke cleared, it was gone.

"Ha, suck on that you big-" Fairfire taunted, before all of the energy in her body vanished, and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious. She was vaguely aware of Winter calling out to her, but exhaustion overtook her before she could make it out.

**Argus Radar Station**

**October 15th, 1600 Local Time, 2552**

Winter exhaled in deep frustration as her only teammate collapsed to the ground face-first from sudden exhaustion. She turned to stab the final Nevermore out of the air as it made the fatal mistake of trying to strike at her, and briefly sprinted so that she was standing over Fairfire.

"Get up!" Winter commanded, but received absolutely nothing in a way of response. She gave Fairfire a brief shake by grabbing her shoulder, but again, the Helljumper did not respond.

Even without further examination, Winter recognized what had happened. Fairfire had made an age-old mistake and overused her Semblance. Countless Specialists-in-training had made the same mistake of assuming they could handle their own Semblance as soon as they learned what it was, and it seemed that despite her alien nature, Corporal Fairfire was no different. A brief examination of Fairfire's Aura confirmed what Winter had suspected, it was completely drained.

Winter sighed with frustration, before something snarled behind her. She turned to see an Alpha Beowolf emerge from the Treeline, flanked by perhaps a dozen more. She took a defensive stance against them, placing herself between them and her unconscious teammate.

_A pack, they'll have more in the trees._ Winter realized, but did not feel any fear, she had taken on worse odds and won before. Still, if she didn't conduct herself properly, this would be her last battle, and Fairfire's as well. She briefly considered using her radio to double-check when reinforcements would arrive, but there simply wasn't enough time.

Her biggest concern was that she had been extensively using her Semblance in the fight earlier, meaning that she would have to use it sparingly, or else she would end up like Fairfire. If both of them were incapacitated, Winter knew that the Grimm would grant them no mercy. She detached her parrying dagger from her main blade, she would need to strike quickly to keep the Beowolves away.

The lead Beowulf howled a command to its subordinates, and as they charged forward, Winter rushed forward to meet them. She met them with a whirlwind of steel and Dust, limbs were severed and flew into the air, followed into the air by the heads of their previous owners. In the span of three seconds, half of the creatures lay dead and dissipating, and the rest retreated back towards their leader.

Winter took the opportunity to take a few deep breaths as the Alpha stared her down, presumably wondering how it was going to kill her. The rest of the wolves looked up at the leader, and Winter realized that perhaps the fight would be a bit more evenly matched if the Grimm had no Alpha to lead them. She briefly weighed up her options, and swiftly recognized that she would need to use her Semblance if she wanted to kill the Alpha from afar.

But as Winter positioned herself to summon a Glyph, her foot bumped into something, Fairfire's shotgun. As the Alpha stared her down, seemingly coordinating some sort of strategy with it's pack via snarls and barks, Winter remembered just how powerful Fairfire's weapon had shown itself to be, even at range.

Seeing the opportunity that had presented itself to her, she sheathed her dagger back into her blade and collected the Helljumper's Firearm with her newly freed hand. She used her sword hand to grip the slide and used her other to hold the grip, finger on the trigger. She wasn't a stranger to using firearms, all Specialists were trained to be familiar with standard Atlesian Military firearms, but she'd just never had the same attachment to them that other people seemed to have.

She aimed the weapon at the Alpha, braced for the inevitable recoil, and fired. Thankfully, Fairfire had left the weapon in a ready-to-fire state, and the bore of the weapon spat out a spray of buckshot, accompanied by a now-familiar loud boom. The recoil was surprisingly intense, and the weapon shook from Winter's untrained grip. Nevertheless, the shot was not a particularly difficult one, and WInter had managed to deliver a wad of buckshot into the Alpha's under-armored midsection, splitting it in half.

With their leader now dead, the remaining Beowolves charged in a wild, uncoordinated rage. Winter racked the slide, took aim at the closest one, and fired again. Now that she knew what to expect, the recoil was far easier to manage, and the Beowulf dropped to the ground in a lifeless heap. She racked the slide again, took aim at the next one, and pulled the trigger.

Only to be met with an unhappy clicking sound from the weapon, the ammo was depleted.

Winter quickly cast aside the shotgun and steadied her grip on her sword. The Beowulf leapt at her, and she caught it on the end of her blade, killing it immediately. A swift dashing of Fire Dust at close range left the final Beowulf ablaze and panicking, before Winter finished it off with a jab to the skull.

As the last Grimm fell to the ground and began to disappear, Winter heard a hack and a cough from behind her, Fairfire must have woken up.

"Ah, good, you're still alive, despite your best efforts." Winter said as she turned around, not hiding any of the disapproval in her voice.

After a few deep breaths, Fairfire got back to his feet and replied. "Ah, you almost sounded worried there for a second."

"You did knock yourself out in the middle of a fight, I'm amazed you're awake at all." Winter said. "Can you fight?"

"Oh yeah, I've had drops that were way worse than that." Fairfire replied, even as she clutched at her side.

She slowly and steadily walked over to where her shotgun lay on the ground and retrieved it. "Huh… thought I had this thing loaded."

"I had to commandeer it, if you care to knock yourself unconscious again, please have the decency to leave your weapon fully loaded first." Winter explained.

Fairfire chuckled as she reloaded the weapon. "You see? I told ya you needed a shotgun."

"I wouldn't have if you had stayed on your feet." Winter chastised. "Don't lean on your Semblance so heavily, you won't just strain your Aura, you'll strain your body."

"Hey, it acted on its own that time!" Fairfire protested.

"Did it?" Winter asked, raising an eyebrow in concern.

Fairfire remained silent as she realized what she had just said, and the gravity of what had just happened settled on her. "...Oh shit! I… I could've shot you!"

"You very well could have… but you didn't, and I think I know why." Winter replied.

She'd kept a close eye on Fairfire throughout the entire mission, not just because it was her duty to watch over her teammate, but because she was able to decipher to a greater extent what exactly her Semblance was. She had already assumed it to be some sort of reaction-based Semblance, but now, she had a greater degree of evidence. Fairfire looked at her, and even through the opaque visor, Winter could tell she was desperate for an answer.

"There's a pattern behind everything that's triggered your Semblance." Winter pointed out. "A charging Beringel, a Manticore threatening to strike you down, an Elder Nevermore summoning more Grimm down upon us… even a lowly soldier that you thought had killed innocent people, what did they all have in common?"

Fairfire thought all of it over, and eventually, voiced the same conclusion that Winter had reached. Her voice was raspy, perhaps even a bit haunted as she spoke. "They were the enemy, they were a threat."

"Or at least, that's how you interpreted them. So your Semblance took action, even if you didn't want it to." WInter added. She felt that Fairfire had already learned that what she did in Atlas was a mistake, and now, she understood why Fairfire had made that mistake.

The roaring of an aircraft's engine drawing nearer and nearer sounded overhead. Winter looked up, and saw a Pelican flying overhead. The sounds of battle from Argus had long since died down, making it easy to hear the dropship coming.

"We'll discuss this later, it looks like our reinforcements are finally here." Winter said.

Fairfire remained silent, staring blankly at the Pelican even as it came in for a landing. From the rear hatch, Jorge and Ben dismounted, followed in turn by the rest of Onyx Team. Winter noted there were two fewer ODSTs than when she had seen them last.

"I see we're a bit late to the party." Jorge noted. "What's the status of the objective?"

"We weren't able to keep everything intact for the investigators, there's some fresh blast marks on the Radar Tower, and the Grimm made short work of whatever defenses were still active." Winter answered. "But most of the evidence is still intact."

Jorge looked over the wreckage behind her briefly, before giving her a firm nod. "Well done Specialist. Stick around with us a moment, your report will have to wait until General Ironwood is done."

Winter raised an eyebrow as the Spartan walked past her. "Done with what, Lieutenant?"

He turned back to her, his visor eerily devoid of emotion as he spoke. "He and Commander Miller are coordinating the effort to find any survivors in the city. He'll be busy for the next few hours."

_Survivors?_ She thought. _How badly did the battle go?_

He turned back around, with Ben and most of the ODSTs wordlessly following him. Only one of them broke from the formation, Winter was able to distinguish it was Nathan by his green-accented armor.

"Hey Liz, you're out in the field!" He said, running up to Fairfire and coming to a stop as soon as he realized just how still she was standing. "Liz?"

His words seemed to snap her out of her frozen nature. "Huh? Yeah, hi."

He paused for a moment as he processed her response. "You uh, you alright?"

Winter could sense that Fairfire wanted to be left alone for the moment, so she strode over to the two Helljumpers and placed a reassuring hand on Fairfire's shoulder.

"Don't worry Private, she's perfectly fine." Winter interjected. "She's just learning a little bit about her capabilities, and it can be a bit exhausting."

Fairfire latched onto Winter's excuse immediately. "Yeah, don't worry about me Nathan, I'm fine."

Nathan seemed satisfied with her answer, and let out a faint sigh of relief. "Well, it's good to see you back in the field again. Hopefully the Lieutenant will get you back into the team."

"Hopefully." Fairfire softly said, shooting Winter a silent glance of appreciation, which Winter answered with a silent nod. Nathan might've meant well by his gesture of concern, but Winter knew from her own past experiences that sometimes it was best to be left alone with one's own thoughts.

"Come along Marines, let's go see if Lieutenant Jorge needs some help." Winter said, before going to help Jorge and his squad as they catalogued different elements of the crime scene.

**Salem's Castle**

**October 15th, 2002 Local Time, 2552**

Salem watched through the last of her Lurkers and Seers as the Dominion lowered to the ground outside of Argus, deploying a large elevator from the bottom of the vessel, which seemed to be loaded with additional troops and vehicles, presumably to help secure Argus's Outer Wall in the event that the Grimm returned. In the distance, the UNSC's infernal aircraft tore away at retreating Grimm, killing droves of them, often leaving nothing in the way of survivors.

Somewhere in the midst of all of the post-battle chaos, Tyrian was likely making his escape, hopefully with some elements of alien technology that Doctor Watts could make use of. She had no doubts that he would escape without issue, leaving her free to focus on the battle as a whole.

"So, did you accomplish what you wanted to?" Watts asked her.

"Beyond my most optimistic expectations." Salem replied with a genuine smile. "Look at the ashes Doctor, the UNSC was clearly not ready for this battle, and Atlas will be licking their wounds for years. This day will send shockwaves throughout Humanity, and we will be in a dominant position to exploit them."

Watts no longer displayed any of the fear he had felt earlier, but Salem could still sense it from him, he had simply grown better at hiding it. Even if she hadn't intended to, she had secured his loyalty even further, just by letting him watch as the Grimm tore Argus to ruin.

"What about Ozpin?" Watts asked. "The UNSC will eventually realize that somebody is pulling the strings to this puppet show, and he'll be there to try to turn them into more of his lap dogs."

"I'm not concerned." Salem bluntly stated. "Ozpin had his chance to secure their allegiance, but then he let them waste their men and material on a pointless battle here, he will find no sympathy from them."

Watts nodded in understanding. "You have a chance to strike now, while the UNSC are crippled."

"Do not be so presumptuous, Doctor." Salem said. "The UNSC will be gathering their strength, securing their position on Remnant."

Now Watts seemed confused. "And you intend to let them?"

"I don't need to destroy the UNSC, Doctor. I only need the Relics, and then I can have anything that I want." Salem pointed out. "What we have done is bought time, the UNSC will regrow their strength, and they will eventually find out about us, and they will retaliate."

"...What then, My Lady?" Watts nervously asked.

"By then, it will be far too late." Salem simply answered. "Go to bed Doctor, Tyrian will be bringing you his trophies soon, and I expect you to examine them to the best of your ability. We may have learned a lot about the UNSC's capabilities today, but we can always know more."

He bowed his head. "You certainly don't have to tell me twice…"

While the Doctor walked away, Salem looked once more at the monolithic alien warship over Argus. In a single day, it alone had killed more Grimm than some nations had throughout their entire existence. If the UNSC could learn from this battle, turn their firepower towards her, could she truly hope to stop them?

"Perhaps." She muttered to herself. "But they will never get their chance."


	51. Chapter 51

**Argus**

**October 15th, 1941 Local Time, 2552**

The streets of Argus were littered with debris, ranging from the tiny bullet casings left behind by the Battle Rifles of Marines, all the way up to entire chunks of buildings that had been broken off by explosions or by Grimm. Richard stood upon cracked asphalt and watched as both of the Dominion's M313 Heavy Recovery Vehicles, or 'Elephants,' used their large cranes to clear the heavier debris from Main Street. Marines and Atlesian Soldiers patrolled up and down the street past him, with the odd Huntsmen or civilian volunteer helping with the cleanup and rescue effort.

They were still finding people who had been trapped or hiding, even nearly four hours after the shooting had drawn to a close. Occasionally one or two Grimm would emerge from hiding, but they were rapidly cut down by Marines or Huntsmen. In spite of the ferocious odds that had stood against them, and the unexpectedly strong capabilities of the Grimm, the human defenders of Argus had held their ground, the city was secure, and its people were safe.

_But we paid a heavy price doing it._ Richard thought as a pair of Navy Corpsmen carried the remains of someone whom he really hoped wasn't a Marine past him on a stretcher.

"Commander." A familiar, if weary, voice called out from behind him. Richard turned to see General Ironwood approaching him, a look of exhaustion on his face. "We've finished our sweep of the Fox's wreckage… we couldn't find any survivors."

_I'd be amazed if they even found an intact body._ Richard miserably thought. "I'm sorry, General."

"You did what you could." Ironwood said. There was sympathy in his voice, but something else as well, an emotion very familiar to Richard, regret.

"They'll be remembered." Richard offered what words of comfort he could. It seemed that Remnant did a good job of remembering their fallen heroes, and that was something he could greatly respect.

Ironwood nodded softly, before regaining his familiar, stony expression. "Reinforcements from Atlas are half-an-hour out, they're bringing Paladins and Battleships. If the Grimm attack again, we'll be ready for them."

Richard looked towards the wall, his gaze fixating on the steady streams of smoke that still rose from the woods outside of Argus. The Grimm had spared no quarter to humanity, and the Dominion and her Airwing had returned the favor. Practically nothing had survived their bombardment. Any Grimm that would have otherwise retreated had been pounded into the dirt or out of the sky. For the moment, it seemed that Argus was safe from counterattacks, but they still weren't taking any chances.

"Commander, are you-" Ironwood began, but quickly stopped himself, probably recognizing how ridiculous that question would be.

"No General, I'm not alright." Richard replied, answering it anyway. "I just... I thought that battles like this were behind us."

Ironwood paused for a moment and seemed to digest Richard's words before he softly responded. "You mean against the Covenant?"

"General, if we were fighting the Covenant, this would be a victory beyond my wildest hopes and dreams." Richard explained. "You don't win against them, you run, and you try to get as many people out as you can in the process…"

A Warthog rode past them, loaded to the brim with wounded or otherwise rescued civilians. They had thousand-yard stares like they were still processing what had happened to their city. He spotted a young pair of women, one of which carried a toddler, who seemed mercifully entertained by the UNSC's vehicles.

"...and sometimes we fail." He softly added, so quiet that nobody could hear him.

Most of Argus's civilian population had survived without a scratch thanks to the UNSC's timely intervention and the Atlesian Garrison's rapid response to the attack. While there was no official casualty count yet, the media was already praising the battle as a miracle. Apparently, when villages and outlying towns were attacked with mobs of Grimm, like what happened to Argus, there typically weren't survivors to tell the tale.

"For what it's worth Commander, this is a victory." Ironwood gently said, apparently he had been watching the civilians as well. "It might not feel like it, but we won today."

"I know." Richard replied, doing his best to hide the sorrow in his voice. "But if this happens again, somewhere else-"

"That's next time Commander, let's not worry about that yet." Ironwood interrupted him, and for once, Richard was grateful that he did. "Right now, let's focus on wrapping up what happened this time, fixing what mistakes we made."

An M850 Grizzly Tank with a dozer blade rumbled by, momentarily silencing their discussion. It seemed that the UNSC's heavy armored vehicles were thankfully useful for more than just killing on Remnant, as they moved tons of debris out of alleyways and roads with impressive efficiency. A team of journalists tried in vain to run after the vehicles, weighed down by their heavy cameras, It seemed that the UNSC's various vehicles were quite popular with the Media.

Ironwood chuckled faintly at the sight of the press correspondents. "If nothing else Commander, you seem to have done a great deal towards shedding your reputation."

Richard blinked a few times and decided to respond how he honestly felt to that statement. "I would rather be viewed as the evilest being in the world, than fight a battle like this on a regular basis to be viewed as a saint."

Ironwood didn't seem to know how to respond, so Richard decided to elaborate. "I would still fight that battle any day General, it's my duty, and the duty of my crew, but I would not enjoy doing it. Anyone who truly enjoys war like this…"

"I understand." Ironwood said with a reassuring nod. "I don't know how much my opinion means to you Commander, but after today, I'm confident in saying that you're a good officer. Your crew is lucky to have you at the helm, and so is Argus."

Ironwood extended his hand, and Richard took it. Ironwood's cybernetic limb was a bit rough to grip onto, but Richard found a stable grasp as he shook the General's hand.

_I doubt he would still think that if I told him everything, especially if he knew about the real extent of ONI._ Richard thought.

Richard did his best to ignore his thoughts as he spoke. "I appreciate it General, more than you realize. I know that our first encounters were… tense, but I'm glad we've moved past that."

Ironwood gave a genuine smile of appreciation. "Likewise, Commander."

Richard's earpiece buzzed and chirped, he held up a finger to Ironwood to communicate that he needed a moment of quiet. "This is Richard, go ahead."

"Commander." His earpiece barked with Bradford's voice. "You're needed aboard the Dominion as soon as possible."

"For what purpose Lieutenant?" Richard asked.

"Sir, Curie's completed her report on the Grimm's movements." Bradford explained. "But there's something else, something more important, about Curie herself."

Richard must've had some sort of visible reaction because Ironwood gave him a silent nod of support. Richard made an effort to straighten up his expression to hide his worries, he had only spoken once or twice with Curie since the battle, and she hadn't yet explained exactly what had happened to her. She had said her capabilities were compromised, and that she was damaged, which was disturbingly vague.

Richard's own knowledge of was limited; but if Curie had become irreparably damaged in some way, he knew that not just the UNSC, but human civilization on Remnant as a whole would be crippled. Remnant was only just barely starting to develop early models of Dumb A.I for logistical and administrative roles, the creation of something as advanced as a Smart A.I was unlikely to happen in Richard's lifetime, let alone a military-grade third-generation A.I fragment.

_Goddamnit, why did this have to happen now of all times?_ Richard thought. Thankfully, Curie had not shown any recent behavioral quirks, which were the only negative habit that Curie had ever had in the past, and they were hardly a strategic crisis. Still, if Curie was potentially compromised, it demanded the immediate attention of his officers and himself.

"I'll take the next Darter up, get Thomas, yourself, and Ben assembled in the War Room." Richard instructed.

"Ben, Sir?" Bradford asked.

"Yes Lieutenant, especially him." Richard thought. He would've elaborated as to exactly why, but given the large amount of bystanders and people who could potentially listen in, he wasn't about to start openly discussing sensitive information. "Am I clear?"

"Aye Sir, see you in a few minutes." Bradford replied. "Bradford out."

Ironwood gave him a look of sympathy. "I certainly hope that wasn't more bad news."

Richard turned to him with a tired stare. "Me too, General."

**UNSC Dominion, Starboard Hangar**

**October 15th, 1950 Local Time, 2552**

As soon as Ben walked out of the back of Fireball's Pelican and onto the flight deck of the Dominion, he found Richard was already waiting for him. He snapped to attention immediately, but Richard waved him to come aboard before Ben could even ask.

"Welcome back Sergeant, how did your assignments go?" Richard asked.

"All accomplished Sir," Ben reported. "The rest of Onyx Team is helping with the cleanup, but I was told you have another assignment for me."

To his surprise, Richard visibly winced at his words. It was so subtle that none of the pilots or crewmen around them seemed to notice, but Ben knew Richard well enough to recognize his subtle reactions.

"Not an assignment, but I do need your help. Follow me." Richard said. His voice was monotone, devoid of emotion in a way that made Ben slightly nervous. It was the tone that Richard had used during Ben's time in Boot Camp, specifically, whenever he had done something wrong. Whatever had happened, it had Richard on edge, and that made Ben wary.

_Maybe it's just the battle getting to him?_ Ben thought, but somehow he doubted it. Richard had fought hard battles before, what was different about this one?

The two of them walked out of the incredibly busy Hangar and into one of the many corridors of the Dominion. The crewmen that Ben walked passed seemed anxious, tense, and wary of danger. Some of them perked up when they saw him and the Commander, but Ben could still sense the exhaustion from them. But none of them were as tense as Richard, who remained dead silent and fixated solely on walking towards the War Room.

"Commander?" Ben prompted, unable to stand the tension any longer. "What's wrong?"

Richard took a deep and uneven breath, it sounded quite rough, perhaps even a bit labored, before he gently exhaled it. "...Curie… was damaged, during the battle."

Ben froze in place as the impact of what Richard had just said hit him with the force of a MAC from point-blank range. In the blink of an eye, his train of thought was completely derailed, pushed aside and replaced with one, overwhelming emotion, concern. Every ounce of his honed discipline melted away as if it were thrust into the core of a star.

"What?" Ben said. "Is… is she okay?! What happened?!"

Richard turned to face him with an expression of overwhelming sympathy. Now Ben understood exactly what had him so on edge, he must've been trying to find a way to break the news.

"We think so." He replied, offering some relief to the storm of worry and fear that had overwhelmed Ben so suddenly. "Come on, she's going to explain exactly what's going on."

Ben fought back the urge to sprint ahead of Richard but followed behind him closely. He tried to open a private comms channel to Curie, but disturbingly, he received no response. Even though there were a thousand different reasons that she could have not to answer, it still only fuelled his fears.

_How could Curie even be damaged in the first place? She was aboard the Dominion for the whole battle! _Ben thought. He had seen the Dominion take some hits from various Grimm projectiles, like acid and Nevermore feathers. But they wouldn't have caused enough damage to the ship to break through the armor, let alone damage Curie in any meaningful way.

Even when he had been sitting in the office of Lieutenant Commander Ambrose as a child, worrying about whether or not his performance would be enough to keep him in the Spartan III program, he hadn't felt as wracked with nerves as he did right now. It caught him off guard, normally he could keep his emotions in check, but how could he not feel worry and fear for the safety of his closest friend? Curie had always seemed untouchable, but apparently she wasn't as invulnerable as he had thought.

Richard remained eerily silent, and Ben knew better than to try to talk with him. He was clearly in deep and troubled thought, and he was probably going through a similar hurricane of worries to the one that Ben was. But while Ben was only worrying about Curie, Richard had to worry about all of Argus and the UNSC, not to mention the rest of Remnant. And if Richard had any answers for what was going on with Curie, Ben was confident that he would have shared them.

The walk to the War Room felt like it would last forever as if the corridors of the Dominion lengthened themselves in an effort to keep Ben and Richard as far as possible from their destination and from Curie. Ben could not remember a time in which he had ever felt so powerless, helpless against something that could not be fought. Mercifully, they finally reached the bulkhead to the War Room, and Ben wasted no time in opening the door.

His eyes scanned the room even before the door had swung out of the way, and he spotted Curie's hologram displayed out of her datachip, which had been placed onto the holotable in the center of the room, as she discussed something with Bradford and Thomas.

"Curie!" Ben exclaimed with relief. He was at the side of the table in the blink of an eye and moved so quickly that he apparently took Thomas and Bradford by surprise. "What happened? Who hurt you, and how?!"

Curie turned to face him with an expression of relief. "Ben, thank goodness, I promise it's not that bad…"

"Not that bad?!" Thomas demanded. Ben noticed an emotion distinctly imprinted into his expression that he hadn't seen from Thomas before, fear. "You're going rampant! How is that 'not that bad?'"

Time seemed to slow down to an absolute crawl as Ben's mind wracked itself over what Thomas had just said. He felt as if all of the air in his lungs was gone, his skin felt rough, dry, and pinpoints of cold fear ran throughout his body.

_Rampant._ Ben repeated in his mind, over and over, but never still quite digesting it. He understood the word, and it's meaning, but yet, he couldn't grasp the connection between it and Curie.

Curie couldn't become rampant, she just couldn't! She'd said so herself, and Curie had never lied to him. Even Lieutenant Commander Ambrose had said the same thing many years ago, and yet, here Thomas was, claiming that Curie was becoming rampant. The fear on his face was all the evidence that Ben needed to confirm that Thomas genuinely believed the claim, and yet, it simply couldn't be true.

He opened his mouth to speak, only to notice something extraordinarily strange. The officers around him moved in slow motion, and Curie herself was speaking noticeably slower as she called out Thomas on his brashness. It was almost as if he was experiencing Spartan Time until he realized that was exactly what had happened. For the moment, he ignored the oddity, it was easily the least important thing going on right now.

Curie finished her statement towards Thomas, her posture fixed in a very defensive stance. Ben hadn't actually heard what she said, but whatever it was, it was apparently enough to deeply insult Thomas, judging by his expression.

"Curie." Ben said. It took every ounce of his discipline to speak as slowly and with as much care as he normally did, but barely, he managed to keep his emotions under control. "What happened?"

"I just-!" Thomas exclaimed, but he was interrupted as Richard held up a single finger, a silent gesture for him to shut his mouth and let Curie answer. He noticed Richard's subtle command and silently obeyed.

Curie turned back towards Ben, now with a nervous expression on her face. She shuffled her feet awkwardly as she looked up at him. "Ben I… I overloaded my processing limits during the battle. Some of my neural linkages were killed by the stress."

"I don't understand." Ben replied. "You can create new ones."

Curie closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep, digital breath. "...I… I can't, not anymore."

"Why not?" Richard interjected, speaking for the first time since he had entered the room. Ben recognized he had simply been watching for the last few seconds, and caught a glimpse of the immense exhaustion in his eyes. "What's changed?"

Curie turned to face Richard with a similar expression of fear on her face. "I honestly do not know. I try to repair the damage but I can not, it is as if those links are not even a part of me anymore, I have no control over them."

"How much of you is damaged, Curie?" Ben asked. He noticed that Bradford and Thomas looked at him with expressions of surprise. Apparently, he wasn't as good at keeping his emotions out of his voice as he thought.

_Keep it together, don't panic._ Ben told himself, mentally willing himself to think slowly and carefully. Losing control of his emotions was something he had been taught to avoid, and his training proved exceptionally useful.

"Only a small portion, but the damage is slowly spreading." Curie said, with an unmistakable hint of fear in her voice.

"How do we fix you?" Ben asked, making a concentrated effort to sound more professional this time.

"...I do not know." Curie said. Her expression hurt Ben beyond any physical attack. She looked completely terrified.

It took Ben a moment to process what she had just said, Thomas interjected once more.

"Commander, I've worked with Rampant A.I before, we need to quarantine Curie before any of our systems become damaged." Thomas said, his voice carrying a grim seriousness to it. "There is a standardized protocol for this exact situation, and it is critical that we follow it."

"I have already done so." Curie reassured him, but Thomas didn't seem to acknowledge her.

"Commander-" Thomas repeated.

"I heard you the first time, Lieutenant." Richard reassured him. "We can trust Curie's judgement, especially if her Rampancy hasn't advanced that far yet."

Thomas took a deep breath in frustration. "You're right, at least for the moment, we can trust her..."

_What's got him so paranoid?_ Ben thought with no small hint of irritation. Lieutenant Oswald had never had any issues trusting Curie before, why did he suddenly have issues with her?

"Lieutenant, I assure you, I am still functional." Curie said, without a shred of animosity in her voice.

"That is not my concern Curie." Thomas stated. "Use a triple-layered security proxy and search the Dominion's logs for the Final Dispensation of UNSC A.I "Augustus" AUG-34377, you'll understand why I'm worried."

Curie silently brought up the report in question, and her expression shifted to one of concern. "I have the list here Lieutenant, there were twenty-two casualties, all were fatalities."

"And they died when their rampant A.I flushed them into the vacuum of space. Augustus had no control over his actions, and twenty-two sailors paid the ultimate price for it." Thomas elaborated, causing both Bradford and Richard to grimace. "That is why we have our Rampancy protocols, Curie. I'm not worried about what you're going to do now, I'm worried about what you're going to do when you lose control of your actions."

Curie looked to him with an absolutely defeated expression, and Ben could stay silent no longer.

"Lieutenant, we should be finding a way to fix Curie, not speculating about hypotheticals." Ben interjected. "If we can stop Curie's Rampancy from spreading-"

"She said herself she doesn't have a solution, Sergeant." Thomas pointed out. "A Rampant A.I cannot control themselves, and that means we need to take appropriate precautions to keep everyone safe."

Ben cocked his head in confusion. "We're not outside of the atmosphere, how could Curie feasibly hurt anyone, even if she was rampant?"

"She still has access to the CCTS, Sergeant. Imagine what a Rampant A.I would do to a network that big, especially one without any functional electronic defenses!" Thomas countered. "She could shut down the whole planet if we're not careful!"

Ben noticed how dejected Curie looked at the whole situation, and it wasn't hard to understand why. He couldn't remember a time where she had looked more miserable. She had even seemed to shift her coloration to a darker shade of blue. Even still, it was obvious that her mind was still sharp, and she spoke up to voice a suggestion. "Lieutenant, what if we could develop a cure for Rampancy, or at least a sort of countermeasure?"

Thomas shook his head. "There is no way that you could do something like that by yourself, especially once your condition worsens. Not to mention the state of Remnant's electronic sector, you'd have better luck pulling apologies out of an Elite than anything useful out of them."

"Nothing is impossible Lieutenant… just very unlikely." Richard quietly pointed out.

Thomas seemed to be caught off guard by his interjection. "Sir, no matter what our long-term strategy is here, we cannot afford to leave Curie in our systems. Think about the big picture, if we lose the Dominion to some kind of technical failure, we put Humanity as a whole at risk."

Even though Ben disagreed with how Thomas presented his argument, he couldn't help but admit that from a dispassionate strategic point of view, the ONI agent had an excellent point. Curie was the most powerful cyberwarfare weapon on Remnant, and not even the Dominion would be safe from her if she went Rampant inside of its systems.

_But we'll find a way to fix her, we have to._ Ben stubbornly thought. He was not willing to entertain the possibility of Curie dying, not just because she was so important to the UNSC, but because he didn't know if he could handle losing such a close friend.

"Then let me take her." Ben suggested. "Mjolnir is immune to any kind of cyberwarfare attack, even internally."

"Monsieur Ben is correct, Mjolnir is specially hardened to resist any kind of electronic intrusion." Curie said, backing up his claim with enthusiasm.

"Can we afford to take that risk?" Bradford muttered. "We just got our asses kicked, do we really want to risk weakening a Spartan, maybe even losing one?"

"Sir, Curie would never-" Ben began to reply, but Thomas cut him off.

"Curie won't be able to control her own actions in the near future, and all rampant A.I have shared the same animosity towards humanity." Thomas stated. "Regardless of whether she would want to or not, there is a chance that she could find a way to hurt you."

"Ben… maybe he's right." Curie said, an expression of immense concern on her face. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You won't." Ben reassured her without a moment's hesitation or doubt.

"Sergeant, did you not just hear-" Thomas loudly protested, but this time, it was Ben that interrupted him.

"As I explained Sir, any hostile intelligence stored within Mjolnir could not harm my operational effectiveness." Ben stated. "Your concerns are appreciated, but not warranted."

By now, Ben could sense the tension in the room, everyone could. What had originally started as a meeting to discuss Curie's circumstances had begun to devolve into a confrontation.

Thomas looked at Ben with a faint hint of suspicion. "Standing protocols state that Curie should be isolated into a non-essential system and quarantined. I would argue that regardless of any kind of electronic hardening, your armor still qualifies as an essential system."

"Hold on a moment Lieutenant, what protocols are you referencing?" Richard suddenly asked.

Thomas seemed to digest what he was saying for a moment before replying. "UNSC Regulation 12-145-72, Article Fifty. It details the exact procedures under which to properly quarantine a Rampant Smart A.I."

"I'm familiar with it." Richard said. "That protocol does not apply to this situation."

"I'm… not sure I understand, Commander." Thomas said. "Curie is a Smart A.I, and regardless of how it began, she is undergoing End-Stage Rampancy. Why wouldn't that protocol apply to this situation?"

Ben fought back the urge to interject and point out the Lieutenant's error in logic, instead he waited for Richard to explain the situation, it seemed like he was doing a much better job at keeping a level head.

"Because Curie is not a Smart A.I, she is a fragment of a Smart A.I." Richard explained. "Before today, she was not bound by the exponential growth of her cognitive processors, right Ben?"

"That is correct, Sir. In fact, I referred to that about five minutes ago." Ben said, feeling a slight hint of irritation at the officers around him, weren't they paying attention?

"Wait… that's what you meant?" Thomas asked, his eyes widening with recognition as he looked at the both of them. "Hold on a moment, are you saying that before today, Curie had a functionally unlimited lifespan?"

"I'm afraid that is precisely the case, Lieutenant." Richard answered. "She is an A.I fragment, not a traditional Smart A.I."

Thomas paused and appeared to mull over the revelations in his head. "But, that's impossible! If there was a way to avoid the limited lifespan of Smart , I definitely would have heard about it. The whole damn Fleet would have them!"

Bradford scratched his chin beside him. "What exactly is an A.I fragment?"

Ben opened his mouth to answer, but quickly realized that he didn't actually know. What exactly was an A.I fragment? He knew Curie, and about the differences between herself and a normal Smart A.I, but he didn't actually know where she came from. _Maybe it's in reference to her limited processing capabilities?_

Richard looked at Thomas with an expression of faint disappointment. "You're from ONI, Section III right? You of all people should understand the importance of containing strategically valuable information, especially if it has some uncomfortable baggage to it."

Thomas and Bradford both widened their eyes with recognition, although Ben still couldn't understand exactly what it was that Richard was insinuating. Was ONI hiding something about A.I fragments, and if so, what was it?

"I… well, I don't entirely understand, but I don't suppose that's what's important now." Thomas said, the unresolved question clearly bothering him somewhat. "What's our plan?"

"Well if Curie doesn't work like a normal Smart A.I, then there isn't really a precedent for this situation, is there? We're flying in the dark." Bradford noted. "Whatever our plan is, we shouldn't take any unnecessary risks, we could potentially risk losing Curie if we do something wrong."

"Losing Curie isn't an option." Ben reaffirmed his position. He shot Curie a confident look, and he could tell that even through his golden visor she could understand him perfectly, as she gave the faintest of smiles.

Richard looked at Ben and Curie for a brief moment, with an expression that Ben couldn't entirely discern, before turning back towards the other two officers. "Okay, here's what we'll do for now. Curie will remain inside of her chip and attempt to slow the spread of her Rampancy. Keep in mind, this is the first time that an A.I fragment has ever gone Rampant, she might be able find a way to stop it."

_To our knowledge. _Ben mentally added. For all they knew, the same thing could've happened a hundred times over at home, but seeing as that information was completely inaccessible to the crew of the Dominion, Ben saw no reason to bring it up.

"I cannot confirm that possibility, but I will give it my best effort." Curie said, her voice rich with determination.

"What about the rest of us? We can't rely on Curie alone to fix this." Bradford pointed out.

"I'm afraid we don't have much choice at the moment, but I do have some ideas of where we can look for help." Richard said. "Thomas, see if you can negotiate with Ironwood to secure his Military's knowledge of Dumb A.I. I understand that it's not likely to be helpful, but we should take anything we can get. Their technology developed differently than ours, so maybe they learned a trick or two even we never found out."

The ONI officer nodded with a dead seriousness. "I'll secure whatever I can, and I'll see if I can avoid leaking too many dangerous secrets in the process."

"If I may, Commander." Curie asked for permission to interject, Richard nodded for her to continue. "I believe that the Dominion's archive contains a number of files related to the nature of A.I fragments, they may be able to assist us."

Richard raised an eyebrow. "Well, what's in them?"

"I couldn't say, I was only informed of them because tampering with them was strictly prohibited. All of them are heavily encrypted and secured, and will only open with a direct biometric scan from Colonel James Ackerson." Curie explained.

Richard and Ben gave each other a nervous look. Ackerson was the mastermind of the Spartan III program, and had a reputation for working with some very shady methods and people who were even worse. Although neither of them could guess what was in those files, it was likely that what lay within would be more than unsavory.

"Well, what use is that?" Thomas doubtfully asked. "He's not stuck out here with us, what use are those going to be?"

"More than you may think. Curie, would your infiltration software be able to crack the security on those files?" Richard asked.

"I believe so, given enough time." Curie answered.

Thomas rubbed his hands through his hair in a stress-filled manner. "Commander, please tell me that you aren't going to authorize the decryption of classified ONI files."

"I believe that is exactly what I am going to do." Richard stated firmly. "Those files could contain strategically crucial information, and if ONI doesn't like us cracking them, they're more than welcome to come join us and unlock them for us. Otherwise, Curie's infiltration software will have to do."

Curie nodded. "Infiltration is my strong suit."

"On the note of slowing Curie's Rampancy, I just wanted to ask…" Bradford interjected. "... what happens if it spreads throughout all of Curie?"

The mood in the room became considerably more solemn, before Curie herself answered. "I could not honestly speculate, monsieur Bradford. But a normal Smart A.I will eventually self-terminate, as their neural linkages become too few to keep them operational."

There was a moment of silence as they all digested the meaning of what Curie had said, before she broke the silence to elaborate further. "But as I said, it is entirely possible that something else will happen, although what exactly, I could not say."

"Either way, let's not take any chances. Curie, use any means at your disposal to avoid that possibility." Richard said. "In the meantime, we'll try to figure out how to reverse the damage."

"That's… a hell of a task Sir." Thomas said. "I wasn't exaggerating earlier, we couldn't figure out how to fix Rampancy back home, how the hell are we gonna do it all the way out here?"

"I don't know Lieutenant, but we have some time to find an answer." Richard replied. "In the meantime, we'll need to keep Curie quarantined from the rest of the Dominion's systems. Even if she won't become violent, it's not a risk we should be taking."

"I will recall any subroutines to my Riemann Matrix." Curie said, her hologram flickered slightly for a moment, before returning to normal. "It is done, from now on, I'll perform any assignment through wireless proxy."

Richard gave her a grateful nod. "Good. Bradford, take Curie's datachip down to-"

In spite of how grossly out of line it was, Ben interrupted him. "Commander, let me take Curie's chip, even if she does go Rampant, she won't be able to cause any harm."

"Are you sure?" Bradford asked. "Have you ever carried a Rampant A.I?"

Richard raised an eyebrow in concern as he mentally weighed over Ben's proposal. "Ben, doesn't your Mjolnir interface directly with your Neural Interface?"

"It does." Ben admitted. "But if there was a security threat in the first place, it wouldn't be part of the suit."

"I can confirm this Commander, any A.I could not control Ben's suit of Mjolnir in any circumstance." Curie said.

Richard clearly gave it a full consideration, but when he spoke, he did so with a stern and unwavering conviction. "Denied. There's no reason that Curie can't continue to operate in an isolated terminal, and I need you at your best. If Curie goes Rampant while she's in your armor, I don't need you making any rash decisions."

It wasn't too hard for Ben to read into the subtext behind Richard's answer. He didn't trust Ben to keep a level head. At first, he thought about responding, vocalizing just how insulted he was, until he realized that perhaps Richard had a point. There was already a small part of Ben's mind that told him not to trust Richard, to take Curie and keep her safe inside of his armor, but that was exactly why Richard was reluctant to give Curie to him.

It also didn't help that one of the side-effects of his augmentations was distrust and suspicion in times of stress, so perhaps he wasn't thinking with as level a head as he thought. Even so, he couldn't deny how wrong it felt to leave Curie on her own, at what was easily the worst point in her life.

"Sir… you can trust me." Ben said. He already knew that Richard wasn't going to back down on this, but at the very least, he didn't want his friendship with Richard to be shaken.

"I know, son." Richard replied with an honest, but firm tone. "But my orders stand, Curie will stay aboard the Dominion until we can stabilize her Rampancy."

"He's right Ben." Curie interjected, taking him off-guard. "If there is a risk of you getting hurt… I should stay here."

With no small amount of reluctance, Ben nodded. He didn't like the decision they had made, but his approval was not required. "Yes Sir."

Orders were orders, there were no exceptions.

**UNSC Dominion, Starboard Armory**

**October 15th, 2022 Local Time, 2552**

It didn't even take a minute for a Doctor to clear Fairfire of any injuries. Once she had gone for her mandatory medical examination, she had found herself ordered back to the post she had found herself at earlier, organizing the Starboard Armory. Unlike earlier however, she was no longer preparing equipment to be brought down to the ground, now she was storing equipment that had been recovered from the battlefield.

Commander Miller had ordered that all UNSC weaponry and technology be recovered along with the fallen Marines that carried it, and she certainly understood why. Losing all of that equipment simply because nobody bothered to pick it all up was unacceptable, especially when some of it couldn't actually be replaced. Still, actually being tasked with putting all of it away was not what Fairfire considered to be an enviable task.

When she heard the bulkhead open, she assumed it was just another Marine of Navy Crewman bringing her more equipment to store, and so she didn't even turn away from the ammunition shelf that she was loading. "Stow everything on that table, I'll get to it when I have a chance."

"I believe you are mistaking me for somebody else, Corporal." Winter's distinct voice stated.

Fairfire turned around and sagged her shoulders with relief. "Hey there Specialist, what're you doing here?"

Winter raised an eyebrow as she approached the shelf that Fairfire stood beside. "Didn't I say that we would discuss your Semblance in greater detail later?"

Fairfire didn't pause her work as she replied. "You did, I just wasn't expecting it to be so soon."

Winter paused for a moment as she stood beside Fairfire. "Expecting, or hoping?"

Fairfire sighed deeply. "Expecting. Believe it or not, I don't actively avoid talking to you."

Winter gave a faint huff of amusement. "I'm aware, but aren't you worried about your Semblance? What it might mean for your career?"

Fairfire's hand trembled as she placed one last container of ammo back into its shelving unit, before she closed it and sealed the security locks. "Of course I'm worried! I'm just… tired, I guess."

"That's certainly understandable, most people would try to get some bed rest after they overexert themselves as drastically as you did." Winter said, with what Fairfire could only hope was a sympathetic tone to her voice. "I'm honestly surprised you woke up so quickly, half of my graduating class would probably have been out for half-an-hour at best."

Fairfire gave a grim chuckle. "Yeah well, I guess if you take enough blows to the head, eventually they stop hurting as bad."

Winter hummed with undisguised disapproval. "I still don't understand your humor, it's so… miserable. But nevermind that, we still need to discuss what we've learned about your Semblance."

"What's there to say?" Fairfire asked, not bothering to hide the misery from her voice. "I can't control it, I'd be a liability-"

"What are you talking about?" Winter retorted. "You've barely even learned how your Semblance functions. Did you really think that learning how to use it would be so easy?"

Fairfire was very surprised by Winter's outburst, and she continued without pause.

"Some people, like Private Nathan, have simple Semblances that are easy to use." Winter said. "Your Semblance, like mine, is far more complex. You will need to work much harder to master it."

Fairfire sighed, she knew that Winter was right, and that she was far more knowledgeable on the subject that Fairfire could ever hope to be. "And what if I can't control it?"

"You can." Winter insisted. "You've survived combat against the Schnee Dust Company and its mercenaries, the Grimm, not to mention the Covenant. Learning to command your Semblance should be easy in comparison!"

An unexpected shiver ran up Fairfire's spine. She hadn't thought much about the Covenant since she had gotten stranded on Remnant, and she was starting to realize just how much of a relief it was not having to worry about them. The Grimm were no cakewalk, but in all honesty, Fairfire found it hard to complain.

"Well, how do I control it?" Fairfire asked. "If it can trigger against anything I view as an enemy, then I could end up attacking someone I'm not supposed to!"

Winter took a moment to think it over before speaking. "I'm still not sure if that's how your Semblance actually functions. In fact, I would speculate that it's more influenced by your emotions than how you view the world around you."

"What do you mean?" Fairfire asked as she roughly scratched her hair.

"Well, your Semblance has only activated on its own twice. In both situations, you were overwhelmed by something." Winter elaborated. "Maybe your Semblance acts as a sort of defense mechanism against that?"

Fairfire thought back to the battle in Argus, she had been low on ammo, and more Grimm than she could fight had been closing in. In Atlas however, she had been so appalled by what she had seen, that she had completely lost her calm. There was little doubt in her mind that if her Semblance hadn't taken the reins, she would have had a nervous breakdown.

"That… that makes sense I guess." Fairfire said. "I remember back in Atlas… I hadn't actually seen anything like that before, at least, not anything done by humans."

Winter nodded solemnly. "You couldn't keep a clear head, and so your Semblance took over."

"But if that's the case, why would it trigger in Argus?" Fairfire asked.

"I couldn't say for certain, but we were certainly in a dangerous position." Winter said.

Fairfire shook her head. "But I've been through worse!"

"Maybe you have, but you didn't know how to activate your Semblance then, now you do," Winter said. "I suppose the best thing I can suggest you do is try to keep a clear state of mind in battle."

"But how can I do that if I'm not cleared for action?" Fairfire asked.

"That's not a problem, actually." An unexpected, third voice interjected on their conversation.

Standing in the open bulkhead to the armory was Lieutenant Jorge, in full Mjolnir, but with his helmet removed. A quick glance at Winter confirmed that she hadn't noticed his presence either.

_How does a guy wearing half a ton of armor move so damn quietly?_ Fairfire wondered.

"Lieutenant, have you been eavesdropping on us?" Winter asked, voiced laden with disgust. "This is a private matter!"

Jorge looked at the both of them apologetically. "Actually, I just wanted to stop by and ask why the bulkhead wasn't closed. In the future, try to close these after you pass through them, it's part of our standard safety protocols."

"...Oh." Winter said, her tone rapidly shifting to one of faint embarrassment. "My mistake Lieutenant. What did you say about Corporal Fairfire?"

"Oh, right." Jorge said with an unreadable tone as he stepped into the room, closing the bulkhead as he did. "You won't need to worry about getting cleared for action, I made sure of that personally."

Fairfire was so surprised by what he had said that she almost didn't believe it. "What?"

"You've been reassigned to Onyx Team again, and you're cleared for active duty." Jorge clarified. "That being said, the Commander still wants you to continue your training with Specialist Schnee and to visit the Sickbay if you notice any oddities."

The news brought on a sense of relief so strong that Fairfire was nearly brought to tears, but thankfully, she managed to keep a straight face. "I… thank you, Sir."

"Don't mention it, Sergeant." Jorge replied. When she looked at him with a perplexed look on her face, his eyes flickered with recognition. "Ah, sorry, that one's my bad. One moment."

There was a brief moment of silence as Jorge put on his helmet, before using his Neural Lace to adjust Fairfire's rank to that of a Sergeant, before taking it off once again. "I'm afraid you'll have to earn the rest of your bars back the hard way."

Fairfire used her own Neural Interface to look at the change for herself. Sure enough, she was now registered as a Sergeant, and although it wasn't the same rank that she had previously held, it was a deeply reassuring sign of trust in her capabilities.

_I just can't mess up again, or it will be meaningless._ Fairfire thought, but now her dread was gone, replaced with a determination that she hadn't felt in a while.

"And for what it's worth Sergeant, I'm sorry for doubting you." Jorge said, with what seemed to be a genuinely apologetic look on his face. "I didn't know about your Semblance."

She gave him a nod of forgiveness. "Don't be, Semblance or not, I still shot an innocent man. And none of us knew how it worked, your response was more than justified."

Jorge only nodded in response. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have a few more things I need to get done tonight."

Once Jorge had left and resealed the bulkhead, Winter looked at Fairfire with a self-assured expression on her face. "You see? You'll get a chance to work on it."

"...I suppose I will." Fairfire said with a smile of her own. "Thanks, Winter."

"Think nothing of it, Sergeant." Winter said. "It'll be up to you to improve your self control."

With that last comment, Winter left as well, and Fairfire returned to her work.

**UNSC Dominion, Sickbay**

**October 15th, 2044 Local Time, 2552**

Nobody paused to look at Richard as he walked through Sickbay, it was far too busy for them to spare him any mind. Marines and Atlesian Soldiers were holed up in practically every cot, with dozens of wounded civilians fitting pretty much anywhere that they could. It was unnerving to see just how many of the brave men and women under his command had been wounded, and even more unnerving at how quickly Sickbay had gone from practically empty to outright overflowing.

_There's not a single hospital on Remnant that has all of the equipment we have here, some of these people would be dead if they ended up anywhere else._ Richard realized.

He'd underestimated just how primitive Remnant's medical technology was. While they had developed a great deal of capable medicine and sterilization protocols, they had yet to master complex surgeries, and vaccines were still seen as a 'new' technology. It was disheartening to hear just how many people on Remnant suffered from things that would've been cured or fixed within a single doctor's visit back home.

With a deep sigh, Richard turned away from the Intensive Care Unit and found his way down towards the ocular care station, where he found the man he was looking for.

Lieutenant Clark's bloody bandage had been swapped out for a proper eyepatch, and Richard could tell just by his posture that the Doctors probably had him on some kind of painkillers. Still, he noticed Richard approaching him, and straightened up his posture accordingly.

"Easy there Lieutenant, you've had a hell of day already, no need to go hurting yourself." Richard said.

"Feh." Clark muttered, which had probably meant to be some kind of acknowledgement, but had gotten lost somewhere along the way. "I told those bloody quack Doctors I'm fine, still laid me up here. There's a dozen people outside who need the bed more."

Richard couldn't help the morbid chuckle that Clark inspired. "You sound just like Ben."

"Ah, know him well then?" Clark asked, his voice slurring somewhat.

"You could say that." Richard said, deciding that going into greater detail was unnecessary. "You just lost an eye Lieutenant, that's not something you're going to walk off."

Clark shook his head, probably in an attempt to clear it of the dazing effect of the painkillers. "Yeah well, I ain't doing much more here than I'd be doing in my bunk, and then the Docs could be looking at someone else."

"They're the Doctors, not you." Richard pointed out. "They'll decide what's best for your situation."

It took Clark an extra moment to respond, but he gave a half-hearted nod. "Aye Sir. Any word on the casualty figures yet?"

"Not yet." Richard said. He'd grown very good at lying during his time at ONI, but he was still disturbed by just how easy it was. "But you should be worried about yourself first, you aren't gonna be leading anyone until you get cleared for duty."

"Yeah… about that." Clark said. "You know they don't make synthetic eyes on the frontline, right Commander?"

Richard shook his head. "We'll figure something out. I know Atlas has some decent prosthetics, we should be able to get some of those until we can get back home."

Clark stared blankly at him, whether it was an effect of the medication or just his exhaustion, Richard sensed he wasn't entirely there.

"You're still with me, right Lieutenant?" He asked.

"Commander… we're not going home, are we?" Clark muttered.

_What the hell prompted that?_ Richard thought. He was taken completely off guard by the question. _It could be the drugs affecting his thinking… or maybe not._

A pang of sympathy momentarily overtook him for a moment before he softly shook his head. "I don't know Clark, I honestly don't. I know we'll find a way back, but I don't know if we'll still be around by the time that happens."

"Ah." Clark said, seeming to understand what Richard was saying. "Thanks Commander… for the honesty."

"I should be the one thanking you." Richard replied. "Without you and your Company, there wouldn't be an Argus anymore."

Clark blinked at him with an unreadable expression. "Just doing our jobs, Sir."

Richard spared a glance at the Medical Staff around them, and realized they probably didn't appreciate him being in their way. "Well look, I can't stick around much longer, it's a busy day and all."

"Ha, aren't they always." Clark replied. Richard could sense the exhaustion in his deflated voice, and yet, there was still a familiar sense of stoicism in the man's voice.

"I'll get out of your way for the time being." Richard said, before he reached into one of his pockets and pulled out a small black box, which he placed on the side table next to Clark. "Fine work... Captain Clark."

Clark gave him an uneasy salute, which Richard returned in full before he left. Promoting him didn't functionally change anything, but a Company C.O typically carried the rank of a captain, and Clark had more than earned it.

Bradford was currently managing the cleanup, as the massive effort weighed heavily into his skillset. With Argus momentarily safe and the cleanup effort being handled by his Executive Officer, Richard had secured a few minutes of respite for himself.

He made his way to his private quarters and took a moment to breath deeply in the silence of his own room. Compared to the hours of shouting and explosions that had preceded it, the quiet seemed forced, unnatural, like at any moment another explosion was going to go off, and the battle would start all over again.

More than once, his gaze drifted to the bottle of barely-touched whiskey in his locker. Eventually he walked over and shut it with considerably more force than was necessary, the temptation was unwelcome. _Wouldn't help me anyway…_

In the private silence of his own room, he ran out of excuses to avoid looking at the thing he knew he couldn't avoid. With a lump in his throat and a heavy heart, Richard turned on his datapad and brought up the most recent file from Lieutenant Commander Bradford, a casualty report on the battle of Argus.

Richard didn't even blink as he ran his fingers across the long list of names, those confirmed killed, those thought to be dead or otherwise missing, or those who were still in critical condition. Some names he recognized, some he didn't, the latter hurt far more, as they had died under his command and he had not even known their names. It only got worse once he added on the casualties from the SDC campaign, but he wanted the full picture, he wanted to know just how many of them were now gone.

The results were just as bad as he expected. Of the two-hundred and fifty Marines that had originally comprised Zulu Company, only one-hundred and seventy-five were still alive. One in every three UNSC Marines that had ever placed their boots on planet Remnant were now dead. Ten more of his people had died on Remnant as well, comprising the three ODSTs of Onyx Team who had lost their lives, and the five pilots and two tankers who had fallen during the fight for Argus.

"I'm so sorry…" Richard muttered.

He didn't know who it was exactly he was speaking to, was it the men who had died today, or those in Atlas? Or was it all of the men and women who had died under his command during his time in ONI? More than likely, it was all of them.

For the first time in years, Richard allowed himself to cry.


	52. Chapter 52

**Beacon Academy, Headmaster Ozpin's Office**

**October 17th, 0922 Local Time, 2552**

The students of Beacon Academy had been extra busy for the past few days. Even though the most recent news from Argus had been positive, there was still a notable surge in negative emotions throughout Vale and its outlying Villages, and Ozpin knew that the other Huntsmen Academies were also feeling the strain. As such, his students were deployed to missions in the field, most commonly under the guidance of more experienced, graduated Huntsmen, helping to combat the encroaching packs of Grimm.

There was nothing that could really be done to avoid the surge of Grimm. Censoring the news outright tended to create even more negative emotions in the long-term through political conflict, and there really wasn't a way to spin a battle as a good thing, no matter how good the results had been. The only thing that could be done was to keep the Grimm away from any settlements until everyone calmed down.

Ozpin had paid very close attention not just to the news, but also to what details were omitted from the broadcasts. Practically all of Remnant's media organizations tended to leave certain elements of their stories unsaid, and that meant he would need to look into those details himself. Thankfully, some of his close friends and allies, such as Qrow, tended to make that job a lot easier. However, some important information could be deduced just by watching the news.

"-rescue efforts have largely been concluded, although a specific death toll has yet to be announced. Major Garrett of the Atlesian Specialists has said that there are still many people in critical condition, and as such, they do not yet want to draw any conclusions. UNSC officials have declined to comment on the matter entirely."

Ozpin paused the Vale News Network broadcast and rewound it slightly. He was almost certain as to what the anchorwoman had said, but he had to be sure. He listened to her speak again, and let out a sigh of exhaustion at her words.

The losses from the fighting had been one of his biggest concerns, and the UNSC's decision not to even acknowledge the question only reinforced his fears. Ozpin hadn't yet discussed the matter with General Ironwood, and he hadn't even spoken with Commander Richard since the battle had taken place. If Salem's intention was to wound the UNSC or Atlas, she had certainly succeeded, although neither force seemed to be entirely crippled.

_What did Salem hope to gain from this?_ Ozpin wondered. _She's always sought to divide Humanity first, then conquer us. Why would she make martyrs out of the UNSC and Atlas?_

The door to the elevator pinged, and he wasn't surprised to see Glynda walk out, the cameras having warned him of her impending arrival. He closed the news broadcast that he had open, as she likely had something important to discuss or report that would require his attention.

"Good morning Glynda. Any news from our students?" Ozpin asked.

Her typical frown did not waver as she answered. "Team CRDL very nearly got themselves killed when they tried to fight a Goliath. Thankfully Oobleck was able to rescue them, barely."

"A Goliath?" Ozpin asked. It was unusual to hear of such a large and powerful Grimm attacking on its own. Perhaps the Grimm were more out of control than he had realized. "Were they able to kill it?"

"What do you think?" Glynda asked, the bitter tone in her voice making it all the more clear what the answer was. "I'm not here to discuss the students."

Ozpin straightened up his posture. "Go on."

"The Council is going to vote on postponing the Vytal Festival, they think it's too dangerous to move the Colosseum with the Grimm Activity so high." Glynda said, her voice practically seething with frustration.

Ozpin paused for a sip of hot chocolate as he digested her words. "I see."

"Let me guess, they didn't bother consulting the head of the local Huntsmen Academy?" Glynda asked, and his silence was all the answer she needed. "Unbelievable, the nerve of those people-"

"Perhaps they have a point, Glynda." Ozpin interrupted her.

She glared out of the window at the City Hall in the distance. "Don't tell me that you agree with them? The Grimm will have calmed down by the end of the week, this is hardly a reason to postpone such a significant event! If anything, it's only likely to cause more panic when people start thinking that we can't handle the Grimm!"

"The Council is interested in keeping the people of Vale safe, as they should be." Ozpin pointed out. "The Grimm are already acting more aggressive than normal, we don't want Salem getting a chance to make things even worse with the Festival coming so soon."

Glynda looked back towards him with a somewhat fearful expression. "So, you think she's behind the attack at Argus?"

"I'm certain of it." Ozpin answered. "The Grimm haven't attacked with forces of that size since the Great War, and even with people uncertain about the motives of the UNSC, the Grimm wouldn't have concentrated into a single area on their own."

"What do you think she wanted from Argus?" Glynda asked.

Ozpin briefly considered lying to reassure her that he was in control of the situation, but decided that Glynda would need to know the truth. "I can't say, but I'm afraid she achieved her goal, whatever it was."

"So the great victory that everyone is praising was a loss." Glynda summarized, her voice sounding slightly exacerbated. "So you want to postpone the Festival, wait for a safer time."

"The Vytal Festival is very important, but not so important that we can't afford to hold it off for a few months." Ozpin said. "Vale's safety is our top priority, for more reasons than the obvious."

"What do you mean?" Glynda asked.

He glanced down into his mug for a brief moment. "The delay will afford us a rare opportunity to deal with the… problems that have been growing under our noses."

Glynda nodded with understanding at the subtext of his statement. "The Council still should have consulted you."

"They certainly should have, and I will be discussing that with them before we leave for Vytal." Ozpin said. He could already predict the excuses that the Councilmen would make, hopefully he would be able to convince them that they could trust the Huntsmen Academies. Thankfully, they were in unanimous agreement about attending the diplomatic conference with the UNSC.

"Have you managed to negotiate a date for the conference yet?" Glynda asked.

"I'm afraid that's been something of a point of contention." Ozpin answered. "The Council from Mistral still wants more time to prepare, and I believe that after the Battle of Argus, the UNSC will want some time to secure the city before they'll be able to host the conference."

Glynda raised an eyebrow. "Vytal is neutral ground, why would the UNSC be the hosts?"

"They'll be providing transport for most of the delegates, and I believe Lieutenant Oswald mentioned a Starfighter Escort for the journey over international waters. A few notable Huntsmen and Atlas will be filling in for the rest of the security." Ozpin elaborated. "Imagine that Glynda, genuine Starfighters on Remnant. It's almost hard to believe, isn't it?" He'd long since given up on the idea.

She gave a faint nod. "I feel the same way. It's just hard to comprehend, we really aren't alone in the universe."

Ozpin stood up and joined her by the window, taking his mug with him as he stared out at Vale. "We certainly aren't. I suppose we should count our blessings, if what the UNSC says about the Covenant is true, and I have no reason to doubt it isn't, we could have easily had a worse first experience with extraterrestrial life."

"I don't doubt that…" Glynda quietly replied. She'd heard the same rumors that he had, and unlike her, he knew that the Covenant's genocidal campaign of burning entire planets had certainly happened.

_Perhaps it's best if they stay a rumor, another mass panic would be disastrous._ Ozpin thought. He would certainly need to discuss that with Commander Richard at the conference.

Even though she didn't show any signs of discomfort, Ozpin knew her well enough that he could guess when something was bothering her. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing major." Glynda was quick to answer, confirming that his suspicion had been correct. "Doctor Oobleck mentioned earlier that it was very unlikely that Humanity would naturally develop twice, and he wondered if perhaps there was some connection between Remnant and the UNSC's planets."

"There isn't." Ozpin pointed out. He knew the true origins of Humanity, as well as it's rebirth, better than anyone else on Remnant did. Glynda obviously didn't know everything, he'd grown wary of sharing the whole truth with other people, but he had told her enough that she knew about the gods that created Humanity.

"Well, that's what is bothering me." Glynda stated. "If we know where life on Remnant came from, and Humanity has never left Remnant… where did the UNSC come from?"

He considered how to answer for just a moment. He could make something up to ease her mind, it certainly wouldn't be the first time that he had done that exact thing, but eventually, he decided that perhaps honesty was the best response. "I haven't the faintest idea."

**Argus Outskirts, Ruins of Labrador Farms**

**October 17th, 1341 Local Time, 2552**

Margaret "Mags" Jackson was not a stranger to combat, far from it in fact. From her earliest days of training at Beacon Academy, all the way up to her more recent clashes with the gigantic Grimm that swam in the waters of Menagerie, she had fought in more fights than she could reasonably be asked to count. Even despite her ample experience, she found the aftermath of the Battle of Argus to be unlike anything she had ever seen.

Labrador Farms hadn't been all that far away from Argus, in fact, the city's walls were barely visible in the distance. It had been comprised of a modest two-story farmhouse, two barns, acres of crop fields, and a personal vegetable garden.

It had been, not anymore.

As Mags stood upon the balcony of the eerily empty and practically destroyed farmhouse, she silently took in the sights around her. The farmland had been turned into a hellscape that was barely recognizable to what it was. Fields of recently-harvested corn stalks and other crops had been ravaged once by the Grimm during the early stages of the battle and then they had been torn apart once more as the UNSC Dominion had shelled the Grimm in the area into oblivion.

It was one thing to hear the words 'orbital bombardment' in anything other than a science-fiction movie, it was entirely another to look at the craters left behind. There were hundreds of them scattered all around her, a few of which were even larger than the empty farmhouse that she was standing inside. It didn't help that it had been raining for the past few hours, turning all of the soil to mud and the deepest of the craters into ponds. Normally she loved the rain, but in this one case, it only seemed to make things more miserable.

Apparently, a violent firestorm had erupted at some point during the bombing, but the only evidence that it had ever happened was the abundance of ash that blackened the mud and the growing puddles. It was like a world she would see in her nightmares, and yet here she stood.

If there was anything that disturbed her more than imagining what must have happened to the farmers who had once lived here, it was the jaded and unblinking expressions of the Marines who now patrolled it. She had noticed the warning signs during the battle itself, how some of the UNSC's soldiers didn't even cry out as they were killed, or how they fought in a brutally straightforward and ruthless manner, but she hadn't dared assume the worst.

_This is just another day for them. This is what their homes look like, what their lives must be like..._ Mags realized. She didn't even feel the horror that she had expected, making her wonder if perhaps she was growing used to it.

"I take it that this was your first battle?" A familiar accented voice said from behind her. She turned to see Lieutenant Jorge approaching, he had his helmet removed and held it cradled in his arm, and rather than look at the landscape beyond, he looked squarely at her.

"...Far from it." Mags replied, although it took her a moment to find her voice. "I'm no stranger to a good fight."

"Not a fight Mags, a battle, grand-scale combat." Jorge softly replied as he joined her on the balcony. "I get that you aren't a soldier, so don't feel ashamed, not being used to this."

Mags sighed deeply. "Okay, you've got me, I ain't used to this. I've seen action before, big scuffles to be sure…"

She took a deep breath as she tried to keep herself under control. "...just, not this."

Jorge gave her a nod of sympathy. "It seems like this was the first large battle you've all had in awhile. My advice, try not to think about what you lost, think about what you've saved, who you've helped."

Mags took a moment to collect her thoughts before she replied. "Thanks Jorge."

"Anytime ma'am." Jorge humbly replied. "I've been in your boots before, but I had a good leader to help me through it all, more than one, in fact."

"Yeah, about that…" Mags raised a finger as she tried to put words to her thoughts. "Is that what all of your battles are like, with the Covenant?"

Jorge didn't reply for a moment, before he gave a quiet, reluctant answer. "I'm afraid so ma'am, but usually we don't get to stick around and look at what remains. Once the Navy gets beaten back, we either make it off of the planet… or we don't."

Mags couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for him, she'd learned enough about the concept of Glassing to understand what he was insinuating. "I'm sorry. I can't even imagine what that's like, losing your homes like that."

Jorge visibly tensed up for a moment, and Mags was momentarily worried that she had somehow offended the man. When he did respond, he didn't look her in the eye, and his voice was unusually solemn. "It's hard, but we'll turn the war around… one day."

The doubt in his voice was very clear, which momentarily caught her off-guard. "You saved Argus. If you can win here, then you can win back on your planets."

"I appreciate the sentiment." Jorge nodded gratefully at her words, but she could tell he didn't truly believe them. "But we would have to find a way home first."

Mags looked back towards Argus, where she could see the outlines of the Atlesian Cruisers and the larger Battleships in the sky, accompanied by the massive frame of the Dominion. It was almost poetic, seeing the massive vessels from so far away, but she could still make out which ship was which. "Any word on when that's gonna be?"

"No idea ma'am, but we're working on it." Jorge answered. "Until then, we'll just do our jobs here on Remnant."

Mags shot him a grateful smile. "We're happy to have you Lieutenant."

"Likewise." Jorge replied. "You all might be a bit unconventional, but nobody could deny you're good at what you do."

Mags solemnly remembered all of the Huntsmen and Huntresses who had died during the battle. None of them had been truly prepared for a mission, let alone a prolonged engagement against an Army of Grimm, and dozens of them had paid the ultimate price. "We could be better…"

"Yes, you could be." Jorge said, with a bluntness that she hadn't expected. "But you're not meant to be soldiers, your policemen, the distinction is important. If the Huntsmen were better soldiers, your people would not trust you nearly as much."

Mags paused and thought over his words. Jorge was entirely correct, but Mags wondered if he knew Remnant's history with that exact problem. "You know, one of the founding principles of the Huntsmen Academies was that they would be warriors of peace who served the people of Remnant no matter which banner they fell under. That way if there was another Great War, the Huntsmen wouldn't turn on the people of Remnant, because they held no allegiance to Kingdoms."

Jorge didn't respond for a moment, prompting Mags to continue. "You didn't know that, did you?"

"I didn't." Jorge admitted. "But now that you've told me, it makes a lot more sense why you all seem to dislike Specialist Schnee so much."

"Eh, for a stuck-up prick, she could be worse." Mags replied. When Jorge turned to her with a faint look of perplexity, she elaborated further. "She does her job just fine, and stays out of my way. That's more than I can say for the rest of her wretched family. Nice work kicking their asses by the way, did more for the Faunus with that than the White Fang ever did."

Jorge nodded. "We're happy to help. We have an uncomfortable history with slavery ourselves, so I understand why the Commander decided we had to intervene."

A stray realization found its way to her mind. "Do you normally fight other Humans back home?"

Jorge shook his head. "Not anymore. Early in my career I did a lot of counter-terror ops, but nowadays we have a ceasefire with the Insurrectionists so that we can focus on the Covenant. Most of the other Marines probably didn't see action against Humans before we touched down on Remnant, but I couldn't say for certain."

Mags sighed deeply. "I wish I could say I hadn't fought Humans before."

Jorge gave her a sympathetic look. "We've all got our regrets."

The Spartan gently placed his helmet back onto his head and looked down at the ground beneath them. In the front yard of the Farmhouse, a small squad of UNSC Marines were setting up some kind of device into the ground, under the guidance of Sergeant Benjamin.

"I should go help them with that. Sensor Pylons can be a bit… unhelpful." Jorge said. "We'll be heading out in a few minutes, be ready to head out by then."

Mags gave him a nod. "I'll be right behind you."

While Jorge went back downstairs to help his comrades, Mags took one last look out at the carnage in the distance.

_How are these people meant to rebuild from this?_ She briefly wondered. But it was evident she wouldn't find an answer, so she retrieved Tasman and her Captain's hat, and went downstairs to rejoin the squad.

**UNSC Dominion, Bridge**

**October 17th, 1423 Local Time, 2552**

Even with the battle over and much of the rubble cleared, Argus was still an absolute mess. The citizens had returned to their homes and workplaces in an attempt to resume their normal lives, but Richard strongly doubted that their harrowing experiences would ever truly be forgotten. Even when the scars of war were swept from the streets and buildings, the people who lived in Argus would never see their lives in the same way again.

_It's just something that they'll have to live with._ Richard solemnly thought. _Perhaps it's a good thing, in a terrible sort of way. A reminder that life is precious, and that we can't afford to roll over and give up._

He sighed at his foolhardy attempts to find any hint of positivity in what was objectively a terrible event, it seemed that particular bad habit of his wasn't going away anytime soon.

The Dominion was in a constant state of activity, as it had been for the last few days. Officers and crewmen milled about, passing along messages, reports, and orders. Lieutenant Bradford and Ensign Gillespie handled most of the day-to-day tasks when it came to the cleanup of Argus, leaving Richard to focus on the bigger picture. The Holotable was undoubtedly his most effective tool in that regard, with it currently displaying a large strategic map of everything within a fifty-kilometer radius of Argus.

Small unit indicators were scattered all throughout the area outside of the city, most of which were either acting as recon, or were helping the Huntsmen cull the last of the Grimm. The Dominion's combat engineers had also established Sensor Stations to offer a greater degree of warning in case the Grimm planned to return. Hopefully it would not be needed, but it never hurt to be prepared.

The Atlesian Military was also helping out every step of the way. Their Cruisers scoured the ocean around Argus in search of any seaborne Grimm that dared to get close, and the larger Battleships stayed in a defensive formation over Argus itself, offering a sense of security to the nervous residents of the city. The Dominion itself hovered gently over the surface outside of the city walls, using it's massive elevators to offload materials and men, before retrieving them once their tasks were completed.

Richard was beginning to understand that while the Atlesian Military certainly had its faults, its local expertise was not something that could be discounted. General Ironwood had been utterly indispensable in helping to coordinate the UNSC's efforts to fortify Argus, and not just in a grander, strategic sense. It seemed that General Ironwood shared Bradford's eye for the smaller, more nuanced elements of conducting military operations. Every once and awhile, Richard would briefly listen in on the conversations between the two, which were almost always related to combatting the Grimm.

"-a landmine is a controversial weapon to be sure, but it's effectiveness against the Grimm speaks for itself. If your engineers deploy them while feeling some kind of negative emotion, the Grimm can sense the negativity in the area, and will be drawn towards it." Ironwood said, to which Bradford seemed to respond with great interest.

_That's… disturbing, actually._ Richard thought, but he kept his thoughts to himself. He'd recognized that he had a lot to learn about fighting the Grimm, so he wasn't about to dismiss any tactic that Ironwood presented, so long as it got more of his people home safely.

Curie had finally completed her assessment of the battle, and while Richard had been very busy, he had made it a priority to read as much as he could whenever he got the chance. He was acutely aware that Curie was making personal sacrifices to keep him informed on the greater strategic situation, and he was not about to let them go to waste.

While the Grimm were the obvious focal point of the report, there were other areas of operation where the UNSC needed to improve, particularly when coordinating with Atlas. One of the major reasons Curie had been overwhelmed was the sheer volume of radio chatter coming and going from the CCTS during combat. While upgrading the capabilities of that particular element of Remnant's infrastructure was obviously a priority, it was also apparent that both the UNSC and Atlas needed to better establish how they would interact with one another. Thankfully, Ensign Gillespie and Lieutenant Chen were already hard at work solving that particular debacle.

But no amount of efficient communication would matter if the Grimm could coordinate just as effectively, and that was undoubtedly the most critical takeaway that Curie had gathered from the battle. Richard opened up the report on his datapad and looked at one of the segments that Curie had highlighted for him, as many times as he read it, he still had trouble grasping the words before him.

"Overwhelming evidence demonstrates that not only are the Grimm capable of strategic maneuver warfare, but that they have their own maneuver brigades, and a disturbing grasp of combined-arms warfare-"

Curie's words went on even further, speculating that powerful Grimm, such as the Leviathan that they had killed during the battle, could actually control and direct the actions of lesser Grimm. It was a terrifying theory, and one that underlined an even scarier truth.

_The Grimm are intelligent, maybe even sentient._ The realization had been hammered into him dozens of times during the battle, and an analysis of the Grimm's actions had only confirmed that conclusion. Fighting the Grimm would not be a cakewalk as he had anticipated, and it had been his erroneous assumptions, no, his arrogance, that had cost the lives of many of his men.

It would be easy for Richard to just blame himself and be miserable, but that was not what his men needed from him now. He'd learned the hard way that taking a position of command meant making hard choices, and even harder mistakes. The best thing that he could do was keep a stiff upper lip and keep moving forward, learning from his mistakes as he went. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and focused on where things had gone wrong.

Like with any battle, the UNSC had made dozens of strategic mistakes and tactical errors, which had been one of the leading contributions to their heavy losses. While underestimating the Grimm was undoubtedly Richard's biggest mistake, his second biggest mistake was not ordering a diagnostic be performed on the ship's subsystems before entering the battle, and the results were very nearly disastrous.

While normally the shipboard A.I would be responsible for such a task, Curie had been far too busy to do it herself, and for whatever reason, Richard had not thought to simply do it himself. It was a failure of basic protocol, and Richard was disturbed that such a simple error had occurred.

Normally it would only be a minor mistake to make, and water under the bridge, were it not for the fact that one of the Dominion's key systems had not been functioning properly, it's Radar Arrays. It was how the swarm of Lancer Grimm had managed to sneak up on the Dominion, which otherwise should have easily been able to detect such a large force of flying targets. Even worse, none of the automated systems meant to warn the crew that something was wrong had gone off, and the malfunction had not been discovered until after the battle had ended.

Deciding that perhaps it was time to address that particular topic, he walked over to the operations station. "Gillespie, did Engineering find out what's wrong with the Radar?" Richard asked.

The young officer turned to face him with a weary expression, one that was shared amongst practically the entire crew. "They think it was an electrical malfunction in the backup power supply, but until they can go EVA and look at it themselves, there's not much they can do about it."

Richard fought the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose in frustration. "Is there some reason that they can't use the repair drones?"

"They're all still working on the Perseus Sir." Gillespie answered. "I can recall some of them if you'd like, but it'll slow their repair efforts over there pretty considerably. Apparently most Atlesian Drones are built for killing things, not fixing them."

Richard took a quick glance out of the front viewport at the aforementioned Atlesian Cruiser, it's blackened hull and shattered armor making it easy to identify. It was a miracle her crew had managed to save the Airship at all, let alone kept it aloft. Still, it was in stable condition now, making Richard's decision an easy one.

"They can handle it from here Ensign, we need to look after our own ship." Richard answered.

"Aye Sir, I'll bring them back over." Gillespie confirmed. "On the note of repairs, Engineering says they can't fix Battery Six without spare parts… which uh, we can't fabricate at the moment."

_Terrific, we're down a turret for the foreseeable future._ Richard grumpily thought. "Tell them to clean it up as best they can, we'll fix it when we can."

"Aye Sir." Gillespie replied.

With that particular problem on its way to being sorted out, Richard briefly turned his attention to Curie's report, before Ironwood called out to him. "Commander, could we have your attention for a moment?"

Richard joined them around one of the spare terminals, and noticed that they had some kind of criminal record brought up on the monitor. "What's the situation?"

"General Ironwood believes he has an identity on our assassin." Bradford answered, gesturing at the file on the screen. "His name is Tyrian Callows, wanted for murder, arson, grand theft, kidnapping… well, in short, if it's a crime, he's probably done it. Based off of Atlesian Intelligence, we think that he's probably an untreated psychopath with delusions of grandeur."

"Color me shocked." Richard sarcastically said. He wasn't at all surprised to hear that the man who had killed Commander Cordovin was an insane criminal. "No mugshots?"

"If we'd ever caught this guy, he wouldn't be a problem anymore. He's earned the death penalty five times over." Ironwood pointed out.

There was a seething anger in his voice, and Richard honestly didn't blame him, since he felt the same way. "So, we have our assassin, but what about the Radar Tower? Did we find the saboteur behind that?"

"The detectives think that was Tyrian as well. It matches his known methodology, and the autopsies on the soldiers present suggest that his blades and stinger were the murder weapons." Ironwood answered.

_That's right, he has a goddamn scorpion tail._ Richard fearfully thought, somehow that particular detail had managed to elude his memory. "One guy brought down the defenses of an entire city… any ideas for a motive?"

"He's a known serial killer, something like this isn't entirely out of his territory." Ironwood pointed out, although there was a fair degree of what Richard assumed to be doubt in his voice.

"Serial killing implies that he had specific targets, something of this scale had to have another motivation." Richard pointed out. "Does he have any known history with Argus?"

"There's nothing on his file to suggest he does." Bradford answered. "Goddamnit, how are we supposed to get a lead on his bastard if we don't even know what he wants?"

There was an awkward silence as they all thought over the question, before Ironwood finally spoke. "I can't say for certain, but I do know this, we cannot afford to let this get in the way of the Vytal Conference, if anything, it's all the more urgent now. We need a chance to reassure the people of Remnant, put some of their fears to rest."

Bradford and Richard exchanged a silent glance of dread, they both knew that some of the changes Richard would be proposing would be deeply controversial, even if they were ultimately necessary.

_Ironwood has proven himself as a capable ally so far… but will that continue to be the case when we demand that he subvert his own country's legal system, even for the sake of prosecuting war criminals?_ Richard thought. "I agree, we aren't going to jeopardize our plans because of the actions of one madman."

"We'll need another day at absolute minimum to get Argus's defenses back online, and another three if we want to clear out the nearby Grimm." Bradford pointed out.

"We can handle the defense of Argus, especially once some of the outlying Huntsmen arrive." Ironwood said, his gaze drifting out of the front viewport and onto the sizable Atlesian Battleships that now floated through the air above Argus. "Without their leader helping them, the Grimm will be much easier to take down."

"So, the Leviathan was their leader?" Richard asked. He figured that it would be a good idea to double-check the validity of such a crucial detail. "We should've targeted it first…"

Ironwood reacted with a faint bit of subtle surprise, but his expression didn't waver. "I have to assume so, unless some other sizable Grimm was commanding them from the rear."

_I wonder what that was about?_ Richard thought. It seemed like he was the only one who noticed just how touchy Ironwood was on that particular topic. _Maybe it's just a sore spot for him, probably best to leave it be._

"That's good. We can use that time to get ourselves back into fighting shape." Richard replied.

"That is certainly important, but we should set out for Vytal as soon as possible, just to make sure everything's secure by the time the Delegates get there. Thomas said that the Island hosts a small settlement, but beyond that, it's all Grimm territory." Bradford suggested.

Richard briefly thought it over. "We could use a chance to score a real victory. So long as the Grimm don't have a leader this time around, we should be able to take them out."

In spite of his words, he could feel the lack of confidence in his voice. He knew as well as anyone else that if the UNSC were forced to fight another battle like they had at Argus, they would likely lose much of their capability to respond to any further crises on Remnant, Grimm or otherwise.

"Lieutenant Clark is out of action, who will lead the Marines?" Bradford asked.

"Jorge." Richard answered without hesitation. "He did exceptionally during the battle, he can handle the responsibility."

"I can also task a team of Specialists to accompany you. With Argus in a safer state, I think I can afford to part with the Ace-Ops for a few days." Ironwood offered.

"We'd be happy to have them." Richard replied. He wasn't about to turn away any extra help he could get, even if he did have reason to doubt Ironwood's motives. "Very well, we'll pack up our gear and head out for Vytal tonight. I want to make sure the Radar Array is fixed before we go anywhere."

Bradford nodded in response to his decision. "I'll issue the order to head back to the Dominion, I'll make sure we're not leaving anything behind."

"Make sure that you don't." Ironwood interjected, with perhaps a greater degree of urgency than he had meant too, before returning to a more stoic state of emotion. "We can't afford to have people like Tyrian Callows running around with UNSC weapons, or gods forbid, your explosives."

"I wouldn't worry about that General." Bradford replied, seemingly unconcerned by the issue. "We're only missing a few pieces of equipment from the inventory, and we'll find them before we head out…"

**Evernight Castle**

**October 17th, 1857 Local Time, 2552**

Grey rain softly dropped upon the landing pad as Salem and Watts waited inside for Tyrian to return from Argus. It was still somewhat amusing to her that something as old as Evernight Castle would require something as modern as a landing pad, but expanding the Castle was hardly a considerable effort. It seemed however, that Doctor Watts did not possess patience in the same degree that she did.

"Are we sure he hasn't crashed into a mountain on his way here? Or perhaps I'm being too optimistic-" He snarkily commented, before Salem interrupted him.

"There is wisdom in respecting your allies, Doctor. You of all people should know that." Salem firmly stated. "And I would rather than Tyrian return safely and quietly, than quickly and brashly."

Watts nodded at her words. "I will give Tyrian credit where it is due, he can be very discreet when the circumstances demand it."

"That is precisely why I sent him." Salem said. "We cannot allow the UNSC to discover this place, at least, not before the Vytal Festival."

She was consciously aware that it would only be a matter of time before she and her castle were discovered by the UNSC, between their satellites and their ability to exit the atmosphere, there was nothing that she could do to hide such a large location. She could try to cast an illusion spell to make the Castle appear to be abandoned, but even she had trouble conjuring enough magic to perform something that grand-scale. And although she would likely have to move her base of operations when the UNSC did find the Castle, it would only delay her inevitable victory.

"I wonder what it is that he's managed to secure?" Watts said aloud. "I think we can safely assume he has something of considerable value, or else he would not return."

As soon as he finished speaking, Salem spotted the faint silhouette of an airship in the distance. "It looks like you won't have to wait too much longer to find out."

Watts let out a sigh of relief. "Finally."

A lone Atlesian gunship flew through the air, before touching down on the landing pad. Tyrian emerged from the cockpit shortly afterwards, carrying a backpack along with him, one that bore the insignia of the UNSC. As soon as he was inside he bowed down on one knee.

"My Queen, I have destroyed what you have asked me too, and retrieved that which you needed." Tyrian said.

"So I see." She replied. "Were you discovered before you made your escape?"

"I… was." Tyrian sheepishly admitted as he stood up. "The Atlas Commander died without a fight, but she was surrounded by witnesses, some of which may have survived the battle."

Salem hummed softly. "That is unfortunate, but it will hardly be a major setback."

Tyrian seemed surprised at how easily he had been forgiven for his failure. "It won't?"

"I can't imagine so. Even Ozpin is uncertain as to where your loyalties lie, Atlas and the UNSC will not know why you attacked." Salem pointed out. "Our plans remain safe, but you will need to be more careful during your future missions, Atlas will want revenge."

Tyrian chuckled. "Not to worry my Queen, I'll make sure they don't get any."

Watts cleared his throat to interrupt them. "Pardon me Tyrian, but could I see what you've managed to steal?"

Tyrian grinned madly. "Of course!"

He tossed the backpack to Watts, who grunted in surprise as he barely managed to catch it, before he turned his attention back to Salem. "Did you need anything else from me, my lady?"

"For now, no." She replied. "You have done well Tyrian, now rest, there will certainly be more to do in the near future."

He gave a bow of respect and left further into the castle, giggling as he did so.

"Well well, what do we have here?" Watts said.

Salem turned to see that, unsurprisingly, he was already digging into the backpack to see what was in it. The first object he had retrieved was some kind of large UNSC scroll, although it had a solid screen, rather than a traditional collapsible monitor.

"Hmm, for something so advanced, it certainly looks ancient." Watts muttered. He fiddled with some of the buttons, only for the device to activate, displaying two words in vibrant red text, 'Access Denied'.

Salem frowned at the display of defiance from the computer. "Can you open it?"

"With time, certainly." Watts answered, the confidence in his voice completely unfazed, even if he did sound quite annoyed.

He placed the datapad back into the bag, and retrieved a far more familiar object, a firearm. It was surprisingly small, built around a simple design, and possessing a collapsible stock. Overall, it was a strangely conventional submachine gun design, considering its extraterrestrial origins.

"I was expecting something more… intimidating." Salem commented, for a military weapon, it was quite small.

"So was I." Watts admitted. She watched as he tried to use electronic rings on the weapon, only for him to grunt with dissatisfaction. "Odd, I was expecting some kind of computer interface. I wonder why they haven't installed one?"

"A simple tool is not likely to break when you need it most." Salem pointed out. "Is there any ammo?"

"Well, I believe that if I do this…" Watts said, before pressing on a button on the weapon, causing a piece of it to fall off of the side. "Ah, so that's the magazine."

Salem gave a smile of satisfaction as Watts unloaded a pair of what she could only assume were alien bullets from the device. They were very strangely shaped, but she was already aware of the power that they possessed.

"Hmm, it has no casing." Watts noted. "Well, hopefully I can figure out how they made these. With any luck, I can upgrade our weapons to fire these rounds, as well as our own. When we make our move, the UNSC will find that they are not so special."

He placed the strange bullets back into the magazine, before stowing both it and the weapon back into the backpack, and withdrawing another familiar object. "Oh my…"

"Is that a radio?" Salem asked.

"...Yes it is." Watts said, after a moment's examination. "Now this, this is a grand find! If I could figure out how these work, I could access their communications!"

Salem eyed the object with uncertainty, her knowledge of radios was very limited compared to other modern technologies. "Couldn't they trace the signal back to us?"

Watts frowned. "I do not believe so… but, perhaps we should be cautious, the UNSC may have installed safeguards to prevent infiltration."

The final object in the bag was easily the strangest. While the radio, submachine gun, and scroll had all been familiar concepts to her, the last object was a simple dark-green metal box about the size of a coffee mug, with a single outlet for some unknown plug. There was a warning label among the side of it, but it had been scratched off at some point.

"What is that?" Salem asked.

"...I'm honestly not sure." Watts answered, his brow furrowing with indignation at being presented something he did not recognize. "Well then, I'll need to examine this all in my Lab with greater detail if we plan to use any of it."

"See that you do." Salem commanded.

Watts did as he was ordered, and left for his Lab, leaving Salem alone with her thoughts. She looked out at the airship that Tyrian had presumably stolen to return, and found herself thinking about whether or not he had been followed.

_There's no reason to worry, even if the UNSC did manage to find this place, they would find themselves facing a force far greater than they found at Argus._ She thought.

**Author's Notes: Jesus christ this chapter was a bitch and a half, hope it turned out well!**

**I wanted to address a slight spelling mistake I had previously made in chapter 8. In it, Thomas stated that Set's surname is 'Ladum, however, this is not correct. In actuality, his surname is 'Vadum. I apologize for any inconvenience.**

**On a totally unrelated note, one of the wonderful editors for The Men From Onyx, a man who goes by the username SardonicEffigy is currently writing a RWBY fic of their own, centered around Pyrrha. It's called "Destiny No More", and I encourage any Pyrrha fans to give it a read over on his profile. I hear the editors he has are very handsome and talented.**


	53. Chapter 53

**UNSC Dominion, Brig**

**October 18th, 1101 Local Time, 2552**

It seemed like it had been forever since the last time that Ben had spoken with Set, and curiously, he didn't find himself dreading the experience as he had done previously. For one, the Elite had grown somewhat less obnoxious and speaking with Set gave Ben the perfect opportunity to learn more about the Covenant. It also gave him something to focus on, which helped him keep his mind off of what Curie was going through.

Curie still hadn't discovered a way to reverse her Rampancy, or even slow it down. During the few times that Ben had gotten the chance to speak with her, she seemed paranoid, even a little bit afraid, and he didn't blame her. He did his best to stay focused on his own duties, but he found that his mind was seemingly fixated on trying to find a way to fix her. The inner workings of an A.I fell far outside of his area of expertise, and Curie had made it abundantly clear that if there was anything that he could do to help her, she would tell him.

_Worrying is useless, but concern is indispensable._ Another one of Chief Mendez's lessons echoed in Ben's ears, which helped him keep his mind at ease.

When Ben arrived at the Brig, he noted that a handful of the SDC prisoners had been relocated from their cells, although where they had gone, he didn't know. He spotted Thomas waiting for him at the far end of the Brig, reading something on his datapad with a scowl on his face.

"Sergeant, do you have any idea what the hell is going on with the messaging system?" Thomas asked. "I sent out a set of orders ten minutes ago, and the recipients only just now got them."

"I can't say I do Sir, but that sounds like a question for Curie." Ben answered. "Comms systems aren't really my area of expertise."

Thomas stared at him with an unreadable expression for a moment before he spoke again. "I suppose it wouldn't be. But nevermind that, I need you to ask the split-lip a few things for us."

"Us?" Ben asked. He hadn't known that anyone else was involved with Set's questioning.

"Curie thinks this thing might be holding onto some intel about where we really are. Personally, I'm not sure if I believe that, but it's not my business to make that decision." Thomas explained. "Here, I'll upload what she wanted to know to your HUD… provided the damn system works."

Sure enough, a new objective appeared before his eyes, detailing a surprisingly small list of questions for Ben to relay. "A bit shorter than usual."

Thomas gave the Elite a glare through the one-way wall. "Good, maybe this won't take so long, then we can go do something productive."

"If Curie thinks that it's worth our time, it is." Ben simply stated.

Thomas seemed to think over his words for a moment, before softly shaking his head, and unlocked the door to Set's cell. "Go on, we've wasted enough time already."

Ben opened the door and stepped inside. Since he had last seen Set, the alien seemingly hadn't changed much. Drawings of various Covenant Warriors, Vehicles, and other detailed pieces of artwork still adorned every wall of his cell, and there was still a faint sense of unease about him, probably due more so to his ongoing isolation than anything else.

_He's probably going to lose his mind at some point if he hasn't already._ Ben thought. It was only once he noticed the silence that he picked up on another oddity, the Elite hadn't made any kind of snarky remark, or even spoken at all.

"Something wrong?" Ben asked. In truth, he wasn't terribly concerned for the Elite's health, but if it had gotten sick, there wasn't much that the crew of the Dominion could do to help.

Only once he heard Ben speak did the Elite turn to face him. "Yes, you've disrupted the silence."

"I figured you would be happy to have someone to talk to." Ben said. "I never took you as the kind of warrior to wallow in isolation."

"That is not the first time that you have been wrong, Demon, and I doubt it shall be the last. Silence is merely the absence of distraction, a perfect opportunity to focus, to think." Set replied. "But if you have come to break it, so be it. What do you want?"

_At least he got to the point quickly._ Ben thought, unsurprised by Set's attitude. "Curie wants to know more about what your people call 'Shunspace.' She thinks that it's relevant to us going back home."

The immediate response from Set was not what Ben had expected, but he saw what the Elite tried to hide clear as day, fear. _Looks like he does know something useful._

But before long, his arrogant stance returned. "Why does she not ask herself?"

His words took Ben completely off-guard, and it took a great deal of focus not to flinch from the hard question. "Curie has other duties that only she can do, so she tasked me with talking to you."

"Typical humans, make the ancilla do it for you." Set replied, his voice rich with disgust. "But that is not relevant, what was your earlier question?"

Ben repeated the question, and Set's eyes narrowed as the Elite straightened up its posture and seemingly put deep thought into Curie's request. It was a welcome change of pace from his typically snarky and unhelpful attitude.

"What little I know of Shunspace comes from a myriad of Holy Texts, all having some relation to the Forerunner's war with the great parasite." Set stated, immediately raising several new questions.

_A war against a parasite?_ Ben thought, wondering what purpose a divine being could have for fighting in the first place. _Then again, it's all a bunch of bullshit anyway, I'm not surprised it doesn't make sense._

"The Forerunners had not yet achieved godhood, and struggled against the parasite, which left their Empire in a state of great distress." Set explained, seemingly having predicted Ben's lack of knowledge on that subject. "It was during this time that the Thousand Solutions were sought, of which accessing Shunspace was one of them."

"Go on." Ben said, in spite of the fact that he was barely digesting what the Elite was saying. His own understanding of what Set was saying wasn't important, he could rely on Curie to work with the information.

_For now._ A morbid thought ran through Ben's mind like a bullet, tearing apart his focus as it went. Thankfully, Set didn't seem to comprehend Ben's mental dilemma, in fact, to his absolute astonishment, the Elite nodded in compliance.

"Shunspace is a place much like normal space, but devoid of the touch of the gods, for they never ventured into its confines. Although they pondered fleeing to Shunspace to escape the Parasite, they determined this to be an unrealistic proposition, and instead elected to stand and fight. In the end, they had no need to flee to that wretched place, when Halo's divine wind spread throughout the galaxy, they all achieved salvation."

_If somebody made all that up, they probably put a lot of effort into it._ Ben noted. "You said it's much like normal space, what does that mean?"

The Elite grunted in frustration. "What are you, dense? Have you not stood in normal space?"

"I'm just making sure I understand this correctly, after all, what's the point of you answering my questions if I don't understand the answers?" Ben asked, once again ignoring the Elite's sass.

Set grunted in acknowledgement. "A fair argument. In truth, I cannot say for certain, the Gods were most… unclear, with how they wrote about it. From what texts we have, The Gods ascended before they could finish discovering what exactly Shunspace was, or how it worked. That is the extent of my own knowledge, unless you would care to hear the hapless rumors of the lower races."

_I don't really hold his word in any higher regard, so why not?_ Ben thought. "I would."

Set was visibly disgruntled by his answer. "Very well, if you believe their whimpers are truly worth contemplating. Whatever I have to do to escape this wretched cell."

_Whatever?_ Ben noted Set's choice of words. _I wonder just how desperate he's getting?_

Set continued on. "Although now that I ponder it further, some of the lower ministers did acknowledge their theories, which would grant them some merit."

"Theories?" Ben asked, feeling that his interjection was appropriate. "I thought that your beliefs didn't change?"

Set sighed in annoyance, which to Ben, sounded more like someone gurgling water with their mouth. "I do not care to discuss theological theory with a Demon, but for the sake of clarity, certain texts of the Forerunners are vague, and are subject to different interpretations. Often, the High Prophets will settle these disputes personally, in a court of law."

_Because of course they would…_ Ben thought, wondering which lucky soldier would finally get to put an end to those self-entitled pricks. _Whoever they are, I hope they don't spare the bastards any mercy._

"What was their theory about Shunspace?" Ben asked, hoping to keep the Elite in a compliant mood by staying on topic.

Set's demeanor shifted to one that Ben couldn't quite decipher, but it was very apparent that it was based in negativity. "They proposed that Shunspace was used as a prison by the gods, to hold those deemed unworthy of ascension from Halo's divine wind."

"Hell." Ben summarized.

"That... would not be a bad translation, I suppose." Set replied.

There was a tense moment of silence as the two of them privately considered the implications. While Ben didn't have the slightest clue what Set would've been thinking, his own thoughts were not existential in nature, but rather those of confusion.

_If we are in Shunspace, why do the Covenant think it's a prison for their gods? _Ben thought. _Either way, it seems like Set puts a bit more faith in those theories than he's implying._

Separating religious propaganda from any sort of actual tangible knowledge was damn near impossible, something that UNSC scientists and xeno-archeologists had figured out very early in the war. Curie was probably the best person to present with the task, but for once, Ben doubted that she could discern anything of use, and not just because of her Rampancy.

"Do you believe that we have become trapped within Shunspace, Demon?" Set asked. The hint of fear that Ben had sensed earlier was now gone, replaced with some other, unreadable emotion.

"If I knew, I would tell you." Ben honestly said.

"Truly? Or do you only seek to patronize me?" Set asked, his voice rich with contempt.

"We're trying to go home too." Ben pointed out. "We still don't even know where we are. You offered your cooperation if it means that you get to go home as well, right?"

Set nodded. "That I did, but I did not expect you to show that degree of… reason."

Ben scowled behind his visor, the Elite's attitude was starting to genuinely get on his nerves, more so than normal. "Oh well, we're just full of surprises aren't we?"

"Feh." Set waved his hand dismissively. "If your ancilla's theory proves itself to be true, I am afraid we may not have the choice of going home at all."

Set's callous dismissal of Curie and Richard's attempts to get them home annoyed him even further. "Don't be so sure. If your Gods never even reached Shunspace, and we ended up here without even trying, then maybe they aren't so special after all."

That seemed to strike a nerve with Set, as he roared with fury. "Just what meaning do you think your words hold Demon?! Compared to the holy light of the Gods, your soul is naught but a cesspool of heresy!"

Ben didn't flinch, even though the Elite had moved considerably closer. "Demon or not, you don't serve the will of your Gods, do you? You serve your Prophets! They could tell you to eat your own leg and you'd do it!"

"Perhaps the Gods simply saw fit to banish you and your damnable ship where you all belong!"

"And also a Holy Warrior like you, right?" Ben retorted.

Set paused, and actually seemed to give Ben's words some thought, before he responded with the same passion as before. "Whatever duties the Gods have for me, I shall answer to their call, no matter where I must go to do it!"

Ben fought the urge to roll his eyes. "Right… got any other words of divine wisdom for us?"

Set growled. "I have a feeling that if the Gods see fit to grant you any mind, none of us will live to see the aftermath."

"They're welcome to come pay us a visit, it wouldn't be the first time that we've killed the Invulnerable." Ben stated. "If you don't have anything else useful to say, I believe we're done here."

Set huffed. "Good."

Ben paid him no additional mind and left the cell without another word spoken between them. Thomas relocked the door once it was shut.

"Hmm, a little more argumentative than I was expecting, but it works." Thomas commented, with a faint sense of disappointment.

Ben felt more than a little embarrassed, but before he could speak, Thomas waved for him to stay silent. "Don't worry about it. You got the information we needed, that's all that matters."

_I guess he has a point._ Ben thought. "So, what do you think about what he said? He seemed pretty disturbed when I mentioned Shunspace."

"I don't know the first damn thing about Covenant Religion, he could be telling the truth or making up everything, and I wouldn't know either way." Thomas said, before withdrawing a small datacube and handing it to Ben. "Here, copy over your helmet camera's footage to this, it's always good to have backups of things."

Ben did as he asked and returned the datacube, with Thomas pocketed. "Thank you Spartan, that should be all."

"...You don't need me to deliver it to Curie?" Ben asked. If the messaging system was malfunctioning as Thomas had stated, a manual delivery was the obvious solution. Of course, Ben was also hoping to get a chance to talk to Curie and check on her condition, but that came second to performing his duties.

"That won't be necessary, I can have another runner handle that. You're dismissed, Spartan." Thomas said. His tone of voice implied that perhaps he wasn't fully listening.

For a brief moment, Ben paused, considering whether it would be appropriate to simply ask Thomas about Curie's condition. The curiosity and anxiety was eating away at him, and a gut feeling told him that one tiny question would not be considered out of line, especially given the circumstances.

But at the same time, it would be. Thomas was his superior officer, and he had dismissed Ben, it was not only courteous for him to leave, it was effectively mandatory. So in spite of his own personal concerns, he offered Thomas a firm salute, and left to carry out his next set of orders.

_Maybe I'm overthinking this. _Ben thought as he left the brig. _I'm not a technician or a scientist, I can't help Curie with my skillset, and it's not like they're obligated to keep me informed as to what's happening with her... I can trust my comrades to keep Curie safe._

And yet, Ben still couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong somehow, although he couldn't say what exactly it was.

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 18th, 1201 Local Time, 2552**

It had taken twelve hours longer than Richard had hoped for the Dominion to actually get moving, thanks in no small part to the painstakingly slow repairs to the Radar Array. But now that they were complete, the UNSC was free to leave Argus safely in Atlesian hands, and set the Dominion on a low-intensity high-altitude burn for the island of Vytal. The route that Lieutenant Chen had planned out was by no means the fastest, but it was the safest, and that took priority.

While the Dominion completed its steady trek and the various Marine units that would be responsible for safeguarding Vytal made their preparations, Richard and Bradford joined Curie in the War Room, where she presented her latest discoveries from the safe confines of an armored matrix. So far, Richard had yet to see any major indications of Rampancy from her, but that didn't mean that nothing was happening.

The heavy titanium data storage unit sat on the holotable, deliberately isolated from any other systems, with Curie's chip contained within. Although she could not project her avatar, she could still effectively communicate with people around her, which was critical, given the importance of what she had to say.

"-In conclusion, what information we have gathered independently, combined with what Set said to Ben, has left me with only one theory of remote plausibility." Curie concluded. "We are located within what the Covenant calls "Shunspace"."

"...And we're stuck here for good?" Bradford cautiously added.

"On the contrary, with a functioning Shaw-Fujikawa drive, I believe that I could recreate the event that brought us here, and as a result, return home." Curie answered. "Although that does still leave us with the considerable challenge of modernizing Remnant to the point where we can produce one, our immediate circumstances have not changed."

Even despite Curie's words being a blunt reminder that nothing had changed, Richard couldn't help but feel a bit of relief. "Well, at least we know for sure that we have a way home, provided we live long enough to get to that point."

As soon as the words came out of his mouth, Richard mentally kicked himself as he realized who he was talking too. "Wait, Curie, I didn't mean-"

"Do not worry, I… take no offense." Curie said, although the dejection in her voice was extremely evident. Richard had no doubt that if she could display her avatar, she would probably look as miserable as she felt. "My Rampancy is not your immediate concern."

"It is. Remember, without you, we have no way to return home." Richard stated. "Any progress on slowing your Rampancy down?"

"Not yet I'm afraid, but I still have a good amount of time left to find a solution." Curie answered with a bit more levity in her voice. "I have assembled a handful of theories that may be able to decrease the rate of corruption, but so far, I haven't discovered anything that could stop it entirely."

"Hold on, if you might have methods to slow down your Rampancy, why not test them?" Bradford asked.

"I am reluctant to, as they carry their own set of risks." Curie answered. "The first is based on an oddity in a Smart A.I's behavior observed by a Spartan Team operating in a former insurrectionist hideaway. They noted that by focusing on a single, complex task, the Insurrectionist A.I was able to avoid the complete onset of Rampancy, simply through concentration."

Richard noted a subtle shift in Bradford's posture at the mention of the Insurrectionists, as well as a great deal of frustration in his voice as he spoke. "I wouldn't put much stock in the claims of Insurrectionists if I were you."

"As I stated, the observations were carried out by a Spartan Team, their loyalty and the validity of the claims are unquestionable." Curie pointed out. "Still, the problem stems from the fact that the A.I they observed was suffering from age-induced rampancy, not stress-induced rampancy."

"That, and they weren't an A.I fragment. For all we know, it wouldn't work on you anyway." Richard added.

"Sadly, that is also correct." Curie stated. "On a related note, I believe that I have decoded at least one file from Colonel Ackerson's files. I should have a readable version by the end of the day."

_Well, at least we're making some kind of progress._ Richard thought. "Why don't you just create a set of false credentials? Wouldn't you be able to access them all at once, rather than manually decrypting them?"

"I attempted that, but they require a biometric signature, not an electronic one." Curie answered. "I have devised a quicker method to decrypt the files, but it is-"

In the middle of her statement, Curie suddenly went totally silent. A few moments passed, then more, and she still did not speak.

"Curie?" Richard asked, a knot of fear starting to form in his gut. He and Bradford both looked at one another, and quickly realized that neither of them had any idea what was happening. "Curie, are you there?"

Another few seconds passed, before Curie finally answered. "Hello? Yes? What's wrong?"

Richard let out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Thank God. Are you okay?"

"I believe so." Curie answered. She sounded more confused than anything else. "Why, what happened?"

Richard nervously scratched at the unkempt stubble on his face, had she not even noticed that she had stopped talking? Was her Rampancy finally beginning to take hold of her capabilities?

"You cut-off mid-sentence, you were silent for at least fifteen seconds." Bradford answered.

"...Are you certain?" Curie asked. She sounded afraid, and Richard didn't blame her.

"I'm afraid so. Do you know what happened?" Richard asked.

Curie was silent for a worryingly long time before she replied. "I am not sure. This is very… confusing."

_And terrifying._ Richard mentally added. "Let us know if it happens again, or anything else out of the ordinary, okay?"

"I will." Curie said. "What were we discussing again?"

"The files on A.I fragments, you said you might have a faster way to open them." Bradford reminded her.

"I did?" Curie asked. She was seemingly quite surprised by his words, judging by her tone of voice. "I am afraid I do not have anything of the sort."

Bradford gave Richard a nervous look before speaking again. "You did mention it. Is it possible that you… forgot?"

_A.I can't forget things. _Richard thought. "I don't suppose it matters now, whatever she had to say, it's gone now. Curie, keep working on solving your Rampancy, we'll talk again in a bit."

"I will continue my endeavors, and alert you if I make any progress." Curie stated.

Richard picked up her armored matrix and placed it back within the quarantined terminal that Thomas had fashioned. As soon as it clicked into place, and he knew that Curie could no longer hear them, he let out a sigh of frustration.

"Goddamnit! Why did this have to happen now of all times?!" Richard demanded, speaking to nobody in particular.

"Murphy's law?" Bradford jokingly suggested.

"Yeah well, I'd like to have a word with the bastard…" Richard replied, before looking back at Curie's isolated terminal. "We need to find a way to buy Curie some time. If she can't figure out a solution on her own, we'll have to do it ourselves."

Bradford walked over and joined him beside Curie's terminal. "Well, I did have one idea, but it's a total crapshoot."

Richard shook his head. "I'll take anything at this point, shoot."

"Curie absorbed some firmware from that Dumb A.I that was in Jorge's armor, right?" Bradford asked.

"Yeah, Auntie Dot. Why?" Richard asked.

Bradford seemed a bit reassured by his words. "Well, Dumb A.I are manually coded. If Curie can accept manual coding into her Riemann Matrix, maybe we could script a solution to her Rampancy, or at least buy her some time."

Richard nodded, this all sounded fairly good so far. "So what's the catch?"

"Well first of all, if Curie was made from a human brain at some point, that raises the question of how exactly she can operate manual scripting, after all, human brains don't use code." Bradford pointed out. "We'd be liable to cause her further damage just as much as we could help her."

Richard flinched, that was a pretty considerable downside to this particular plan. "Anything else?"

"Coding something like that is pretty far out of my field of expertise." Bradford answered. "That doesn't mean I can't do it, especially if I had a few technicians to help me, but it would take time, lots of it."

Richard almost didn't want to ask. "How long?"

"Realistically? A few weeks to a month or two, we can't take the risk of doing this wrong." Bradford answered.

Richard looked back at the terminal Curie was being kept in, and thought back to how she'd seemingly forgotten she was talking to them. "...Do it. Assemble anyone you might need, and brief them on the situation, and make sure they keep their mouths shut. Morale is in the gutter at the moment, the crew cannot know that Curie might be dying."

"Aye Sir." Bradford said. "Although now that you mentioned it… maybe we could share the news about where exactly we are with the crew. I'm sure knowing that we're safe from the Covenant would help boost everyone's spirits."

Richard thought it over for a moment, but quickly realized the problems with that plan. "We can't tell them everything. If news were to spread to Remnant that we're in Covenant Hell… I don't want to think about what would happen."

Bradford seemed a bit confused. "Are you sure Sir? I think everyone knows the Covenant are a bunch of lunatics by now."

"We might, but keep in mind, your average civilian down on Remnant still doesn't know shit about the Covenant, and we should keep it that way." Richard said. "Feel free to tell the crew that we have good reason to believe the Covenant won't follow us, and that if we can put together a Slipspace Drive in the future, we know that we have a way home, but leave it at that."

Bradford nodded. "Aye Sir."

Once he left, Richard was all alone in the War Room. He took another look back at Curie's terminal, and listened to the faint electronic noises it made.

"How the hell am I supposed to tell Ben about this?" Richard muttered to himself.

**Vytal Airspace**

**October 18th, 1124 Local Time, 2552**

The troop compartment of the D77H-TCI Pelican was surprisingly small in Mags' opinion, given that it was meant to ferry loads of soldiers and material from a ship in orbit down to a planet's surface, and vice-versa. Still, it was a truly enviable dropship that she would love to own, and apparently civilians were permitted to own disarmed variants of them in UNSC space, and that very prospect made her heart rush with newfound energy. Her love for all things to do with oceangoing vessels extended to the stars, for many of the same reasons.

While she sat and polished her boots, the Marines in all of the seats chattered with one another, seemingly discussing some big news from their superior officers, but she wasn't paying much attention. Across from her, Jorge sat quietly and tinkered with his weapon, as he had been doing for the last twenty-odd minutes.

"Something on your mind, or am I just that pretty?" Mags teasingly asked.

Jorge softly chuckled. "A few things, yeah. Just some… problems, that we've got back on the Dominion."

Mags sensed the weight of the words as he spoke them. "Nothing too dangerous I'd hope?"

"It's… classified." Jorge answered. "At least, for the time being."

There was an awkward silence for a moment as Mags made a multitude of mental guesses as to what he might be talking about, before he spoke again. "Hey Mags, settle a bet for me will ya?"

_He's changing the topic on purpose._ Mags noticed, but she didn't see any reason to push her luck with whatever secret Jorge was sitting on. "Aye, what is it?"

"Have you ever seen any active service?" Jorge asked. "Not as a Huntress I mean, but as a soldier… or a sailor, I guess, in your case."

Mags gave a laugh at his awkward observations, but beneath her outward reaction, she was unnerved by his question.

She doubted he would count the White Fang as a military.

Long before she'd graduated from Beacon Academy, she'd taken part in more than her fair share of civil-rights protests, boycotts, and occasional riots that she could reasonably count. Back then, the White Fang had been aiming for equality, for justice. Violence was rare, and almost always in self-defense, at least with the group of folks she had travelled with. Like a few others in her group, Mags learned to fight out of necessity, some more closed-minded humans tended to fight against their message with rifles, not words.

But all of that had changed when Ghira had stepped down as the leader of the White Fang, and a hotheaded self-righteous bitch named Sienna Khan had taken over. Mags had left along with a few of her comrades, as part of a display that they had lost their faith in the White Fang. The White Fang had let them all leave, and had not tried to stop them. Nowadays, she heard that they fed deserters to the Grimm, usually while they were still alive.

_Keep it cool Maggie, that's all in the past._ Mags thought as she took a single deep breath.

"I've got some experience, but I'm afraid I haven't ever served in the typical sense, but I try to hold myself to high standards. Some of my old Professors at Beacon really helped me out." Mags answered. It wasn't a lie, but it definitely wasn't the truth.

Thankfully, Jorge didn't seem to read into her answer. Then again, maybe he was, it was incredibly difficult to tell what he was thinking when he had his helmet on.

"I see, it must be a hell of an academy then." Jorge replied. "I only visited the place once, and didn't stay long enough to make a good opinion of it. Ben stayed for a bit as part of a technical exchange program, and he said that it was alright, even if it was… informal."

Mags fought the urge to chuckle at the circumstances, she could only imagine how a stick in the mud like Ben would respond to a place as chaotic and rowdy as Beacon.

_That's why it was so great._ Mags thought wistfully. Sure she and her training team had collectively caused more damage in taxpayer dollars than a small tornado by the end of their first year, but Professor Goodwitch had always been there to help put things back together, and her team had all survived, and Remnant had gained four more qualified defenders against the Grimm. _I oughta call her once we get a moment of quiet, see if she's coming to the conference._

"It's nice. If you ever get a chance, you should see if they still do tours." Mags suggested.

Jorge shook his head. "Eh, not likely. It's not that I'm not interested, but uh… we don't get leave all that often."

Mags raised an eyebrow. "Really now?"

"Taking Spartans off the frontline isn't really… wise." Jorge elaborated. "Not that it matters much to us, I haven't met a Spartan who regrets their choice of career."

Mags shrugged. "Hey, if it works for you all, good enough. It ain't my place to intrude."

Jorge gave her a thankful nod. "I appreciate it."

Mags was about to respond, when Jorge put a hand to his helmet, seemingly talking with someone over the radio.

_Probably best that I don't interrupt him, I wouldn't want to disrupt anything._ Mags thought, returning her attention to her boots. By the time she was done getting the leather back to how she liked it, Jorge had finished his conversation and was removing his helmet with a sound of annoyance.

"Sorry about that, apparently the Ace-Ops are having some trouble getting used to the radios." Jorge explained. Mags scowled, and Jorge seemed to pick up on her reaction. "Something wrong?"

Mags sighed and shook her head. "I'm just… I'm not sure how comfortable I am having those Specialists around. I know that they're good soldiers and all, but well, they gave up the Huntsmen title."

"There's nothing wrong with being a soldier, especially not a loyal one." Jorge said. He showed no signs of being offended, instead, he sounded genuinely curious.

"I agree, but the Ace-Ops could've served Atlas just fine without writing off the rest of Remnant, just like the rest of the Specialists did." Mags pointed out. "Forgive me if I'm not so keen to trust the judgement of the Atlesian Military."

Jorge pointedly remained silent, and Mags could pretty confidently guess what he was thinking about. Jorge had personally led missions to help clear out the SDC, he would've seen firsthand what happened when Atlas failed its people. When he did eventually respond, his voice sounded unusually weary.

"It's not my call to make, the Commander wanted them along, so they'll help clear the Grimm out. So long as they follow orders and do their jobs, nothing will go wrong."

Mags gave him a wary expression. "You trust your Commander that much?"

"I do, but that doesn't mean I can't take certain precautions in the event that bringing them along was a mistake." Jorge explained. "Sergeant Benjamin is going to go with them and make sure that there's not any communication mishaps, but he'll also make sure that they do their jobs without a fuss. I'm confident they don't need him, but it never hurts to help out our allies a little bit."

Mags nodded with understanding, even if Jorge didn't share her suspicions, he had at least seen fit to give the Specialists a capable watchdog. "What about your own squad? Shouldn't you be sticking together?"

"Nathan and Fairfire are training their Semblances, Yu is still recovering from her lung wound, Meadows is in a similar boat to Yu, and Pegamagabow is on shore leave." Jorge explained. "Me and Ben are still operational, but for the moment, Onyx Team is out of action."

Mags nodded in understanding. "Damn shame, 'Onyx' is a good name for a training team, you all would've fit right in at Beacon."

Jorge didn't seem to know how to respond to that, as he remained silent, which seemed to be a regular occurrence from him. Mags had also noticed that Ben tended to also go silent whenever he didn't know what to say, maybe it was just a running trend for Spartans.

_They are a bit strange, but that doesn't mean they aren't good people._ Mags thought. _I'd take a Spartan by my side over a whole team of Specialists any day._

An electronic sound signaled that the pilot's intercom was coming online. The Marines fell silent and looked up at it expectantly, before Fireball's voice began to emit from the speakers.

"Hope you all haven't gotten too comfy, we're about five mikes out from the LZ." Fireball announced. "Make sure to grab everything once we land, if you assholes leave any more snack wrappers under my seats, I will personally force you to eat them."

Mags snickered at the Pilot's playful threat along with a few of the other Marines, before she turned her attention back to Jorge. "So, what's our first assignment?"

"We'll be sweeping all of the Landing Sites for any kind of suspicious objects, we're on the lookout for IEDs." Jorge answered. "After that, we'll be patrolling the streets, we don't want any would-be assassins sneaking through."

Mags raised an eyebrow. "You say that like you're expecting a human attack, not Grimm."

"I am." Jorge bluntly answered. "Commander Miller and Lieutenant Oswald are worried that certain terrorist factions may try to disrupt the conference, maybe even target the delegates. Our job is to make sure that they never get a chance."

Mags grimaced, she almost didn't want to ask, but she had to know for certain. "I'm cleared to know all that, right?"

"The big one we're looking out for is the White Fang." Jorge stated, confirming her worst suspicions. "From what we've gathered, they're a Faunus supremacist group that grew out of the remains of a dead civil-rights movement."

Even having braced for it, Jorge's blunt answer still hurt her to her core. What made it hurt even more was that he was totally correct, that was exactly what the White Fang had become. "You don't need to tell me. I've… dealt with them before."

Jorge put his helmet back on and ran a final inspection of his weapon. "I'm glad to have someone experienced on the team."

Mags didn't see a good reason to correct him, and he wasn't technically wrong, she had fought against the White Fang since she had left, and frankly, her distant past was irrelevant. "Why do you think the White Fang will try to stop the conference? They would know that Chief Belladonna is coming."

"We don't know if they will, but we should assume the worst." Jorge answered. "Commander Miller and the Chieftain are going to be demanding some major reforms to Menagerie's place on Remnant, and we don't know how the White Fang will respond."

Mags raised an eyebrow, she'd heard rumors from the Marines that the UNSC Commander and Chieftain Belladonna were planning something big for Menagerie as a whole, but she hadn't had any idea what it was. "What'll they be demanding?"

"They're hoping to get Menagerie international recognition as a fully-fledged Kingdom, and hopefully ease racial tensions a bit in the process. The end goal is to have five fully-fledged nations on Remnant that can treat one another with a bit of respect." Jorge answered. "We don't know how the White Fang will react, but we can't put our confidence in a terror organization's ability to be reasonable, even if our demands are in line with their own goals."

Mags paused and digested his words for a moment, Menagerie as a Kingdom? What would that even entail? And Jorge raised an excellent point: what the hell would the White Fang have to say about it? Would they be pleased or outraged? She already knew they would be watching with bated breath to hear the announcement for the date of Jacques Schnne's international trial, and she didn't blame them, she could not wait to watch that snivelling cunt get twenty-seven consecutive life-sentences live on television.

"I suppose that's certainly reasonable." Mags replied, before she made a realization. "Hold on a moment, even if the White Fang wanted to attack the conference, how would they even get there? It's not like they've got spaceships!"

Jorge paused and considered her words. "I hadn't thought of that actually. I'll admit, I've gotten used to fighting the Covenant, it's hard to imagine having a technology advantage for a change."

Mags understood his plight well, he was so ingrained into one way of thinking that he was making mistakes now that he was faced with a new situation. "That doesn't mean we should get cocky, just because the Fang' won't attack us, doesn't mean the Grimm won't."

"I agree wholeheartedly." Jorge replied. "And don't worry about the Grimm, I hear that Zulu Company's going to be trying out some of their new weapons on them."

**Vytal Island, Outskirts of Vytal City**

**October 18th, 1544 Local Time, 2552**

Were it not for General Ironwood's Aura, he was all but certain that the UNSC's M440 "Four-Forty" howitzers would have deafened him outright. The Marines who operated the cannons seemingly felt no discomfort from the constant blasts, either their ear protection was much stronger than it looked, or they were all already deaf. But the deafening sound was the least of the weapon system's destructive capabilities, as the Marines merrily demonstrated to the Grimm.

The Artillery Crews had set up a small position for themselves on the outskirts of Vytal City. Originally, the Marines had intended to set up their guns within the borders of the settlement, but General Ironwood had quickly intervened, seeing as that would have undoubtedly caused a massive panic. After a brief debate with the Platoon Sergeant in charge of the unit, they agreed to establish a position outside of the city borders.

At first, Ironwood was surprised that the otherwise professional and downright impressive Marines would make such a simple mistake, until he remembered where they came from. While General Ironwood still had a lot to learn about the UNSC's war with the Covenant, it was no secret that the UNSC was on the defensive.

_I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, they're no need to avoid causing a panic when there are alien starships overhead, threatening to scorch the entire planet. _Ironwood grimly thought. Thankfully, he had been in the right place to stop them, but it had still shaken his confidence in the Marines a bit.

Thankfully, the Marines sharpened up their habits as soon as Lieutenant Jorge took charge of the UNSC forces. Ironwood recognized the incredible respect that the Marines held for the Spartan, it was as if his very presence was an inspiration for them.

Another series of rounds fired from the howitzers, and Ironwood was astonished at the forces that he felt wash over him. Normally, he wouldn't have much of a reason to stand next to the constantly firing guns, but the din of the artillery offered a perfect layer of security that he could use to talk discreetly with Ozpin. Of course, he made an extra effort to speak quietly and keep his distance from everyone around him regardless, one could never be too careful.

Ironwood had meant to contact Ozpin some time ago, but he'd been extremely busy after the Battle of Argus, and finding a moment of privacy aboard the Dominion had been nigh-impossible. Thankfully, the reception on Vytal was very good, thanks not only due to the presence of the Dominion, but also a local relay tower, allowing him to call Ozpin on his personal scroll.

Mercifully, it did not take long for him to answer. "Ozpin."

"James, it's good to hear from you. I was beginning to think something had gone wrong." Ozpin said. "Everything is alright, isn't it?"

Ironwood took a deep breath as he searched for the right words to say, but eventually decided to just keep things simple. "I'm sorry Ozpin, I've been busy since the battle ended, I haven't had a chance to call you… privately."

Thankfully, Ozpin seemed to understand the deeper connotations behind his statement perfectly. "Well, I suppose what's done is done. Thankfully, the news was kind enough to fill me in on the Battle, apparently Atlas and the UNSC really saved the day, and by quite the wide margin."

_He'll want to know about how the battle really went._ Ironwood thought. "There were a few moments where it looked like things were going to get… dangerous. The UNSC weren't expecting the Grimm to deploy advanced strategies, and they paid dearly for it."

He still wasn't entirely certain as to whether or not he was being eavesdropped upon, either by the UNSC or otherwise, and so he took care to keep his words vague.

"Hmm, I'm truly sorry to hear that." Ozpin replied.

_Things could have been different. _Ironwood wanted to voice his frustrations with keeping the truth of Salem from the UNSC, but kept his thoughts to himself. Ultimately, he agreed that Ozpin's precautions were certainly justified, given all of the things that could go wrong if the UNSC had held more nefarious intentions. Until very recently, neither Ironwood nor Ozpin had any reason to take the UNSC at their word when they claimed to want to defend humanity.

But what none of them could have expected was for the UNSC to be forced into a pitched battle to defend Argus, one that had cost the Interstellar Military Force a great many men and women. And there was no denying that perhaps if Ironwood had told Commander Richard what was really going on, that the Grimm were being commanded from afar by an intelligent leader, then maybe some lives would have been saved.

But all of that was in the past, Ironwood had remained silent, and he'd permitted the alien soldiers to die on behalf of Argus and Atlas. It made him sick to his stomach every time he thought about it, and truth be told, he doubted that he would do it again if given the chance, Ozpin's instructions be damned.

Ozpin tried to say something else, but it was drowned out by the sound of the artillery firing again. "What is… is that gunfire?"

"It's nothing to worry about. The UNSC are using some of their heavy guns to clear away the Grimm in preparation for the Vytal Conference." Ironwood explained. "The local Huntsmen were a bit upset that they're losing out on the bounties, but we both know the Grimm will come right back as soon as everyone heads home."

"That is unfortunately true." Ozpin said. There was a momentary pause before he spoke again, this time with a great deal more curiosity in his voice. "Tell me, what do you think of the UNSC's Leader, now that you've fought alongside him?"

Ironwood had already thought the answer over a great deal, in fact, he had placed his trust in Commander Richard even before the Battle of Argus had happened. It wasn't hard to guess why Ozpin was asking, if Richard could be brought into the fight as an ally against Salem, he and the UNSC would no doubt be utterly invaluable.

There was little doubt in Ironwood's mind as he gave his answer. "We would be fools if we kept Commander Miller in the dark any longer, I'm convinced that he genuinely has mankind's best interests at heart."

_Even if it's weighing on him quite heavily._ Ironwood silently added. He'd noticed more than a few familiarities in Richard's behavior, all of them pointing to the man being quite weary of war. In many ways, Richard's mannerisms were very similar to those of Ozpin, but somehow a bit less refined. _I suppose he hasn't been alive for as long as Ozpin has._

"I see." Ozpin said. "And his crew?"

Ironwood softly shook his head, even though he knew Ozpin was hundreds of miles away. "While his senior officers are very capable people in their own rights, inducting his entire crew would be a mistake. We cannot trust that many people to keep their lips sealed."

Ironwood could practically sense Ozpin's relief. "I'm glad you agree. Even after the Battle of Argus, we cannot entrust hundreds of soldiers with secrets that could kill millions if they were to come out."

There was a pause as the artillery fired once more, and Ozpin waited until the worst of the sound had dissipated.

"As for Commander Richard, we can bring him into the fold during the Vytal Conference. There will be plenty of opportunities for us to speak to him privately." Ozpin stated. There was definitely a hint of skepticism in his voice, but Ironwood didn't honestly blame him.

_If we're wrong about Richard, if he's a different man than we think he is, a lot of people are going to die._ Ironwood thought. In spite of his morbid thoughts, he let out a sigh of relief, he was confident that this was the correct decision to make. "Don't worry Ozpin, you can trust me… you can trust both of us."

There was a moment of silence before Ozpin replied. "I know. I'll be seeing you in a couple days, stay safe."

Ozpin hung up the line, and Ironwood pocketed his scroll. For the first time since the Battle of Argus had ended, he was confident in the future.

**UNSC Dominion, Barracks**

**October 18th, 1944 Local Time, 2552**

Now that Yu was free to walk around on her own, she was feeling a lot better. Even if her lung ached constantly and occasionally felt like it was burning when she breathed, she was more than capable of toughing out the pain. This wasn't the first time she had been wounded, and odds were good that it wouldn't be the last. She was recovering much more quickly than was expected of her, but healing quickly hadn't helped with what was bothering her.

During the Battle of Argus, she'd been forced to sit and listen as the sounds of gunfire and explosions echoed throughout the Dominion, and watch as Sickbay steadily filled up with wounded Marines, Atlesians, and civilians. It was terrible, knowing that her friends and comrades were fighting a ferocious battle to the death with the Grimm, and not being able to do anything to help them. She'd originally joined the Marines out of a sense of hopelessness and unworthiness, and her experience in Sickbay had resurfaced those feelings.

Still, she wasn't dumb enough to assume that she could have helped, she recognized the reality of being wounded. Her lung still felt like a brick of lead in her chest anytime she did anything remotely strenuous, hell, she couldn't even talk for extended periods of time. If she were forced into any kind of combat in her current condition, she would just get herself killed, and be a danger to her squadmates, who would be forced to focus on protecting her instead of themselves.

So when the Doctor officially cleared her to leave Sickbay, she'd been quite happy to hear it. Her first thought had been to go find Fairfire in the Barracks and check in with the squad, when she remembered the brutal truth of how she had ended up in Sickbay in the first place.

_Right…_ The memory of her talk with Ben in the armory, as well as the furious debate between Meadows and Nathan had come back to her all at once. Now she sat in a chair in the Barracks, trying to figure out what to do next.

Truth be told, she didn't really know how to feel about what Fairfire had done. Obviously there were a million things that were wrong with murdering a prisoner of war in cold blood, especially one that had turned out to be innocent. On the other hand, there was some debate as to whether or not Fairfire had been forced to act by her Semblance, and could Yu really blame Fairfire if she hadn't even been in control of her own body?

_This damn planet is the worst thing that's happened to our whole squad. One of us is going to die to something we couldn't have seen coming, what the hell can we even do? _Yu bitterly thought.

There was also the distinct possibility that Fairfire had actually been in complete control of her actions, and that she was just using her Semblance as an excuse to get away with the crime. The crew of the Dominion certainly placed some confidence in that rumor, but frankly, Yu didn't buy it. Fairfire could certainly be a very volatile person, but she was always in control of herself on the battlefield, on more than one occasion, she had single-handedly controlled the entire battlefield itself. Over those years of fighting, she'd never once lost her nerve in the field, so why would she start now?

"_You should probably just ask her about it."_ She remembered Ben suggesting, as if it was that easy. What the hell was she supposed to say? "_Hey Liz, you didn't mean it when you tried to shoot that innocent guy and indirectly got me shot by a sniper, right?"_

With a hefty sigh, she elected to give it a shot, it wasn't like she had any better options. Hoping to get some directions, Yu made her way to the nearest holotank. "Hey Curie, do you have any idea where Fairfire is?"

Yu was only met with silence from the dormant pedestal. _She's probably with Ben, wherever the hell he is._

Thankfully, the squad roster had Fairfire listed as working in the Starboard Armory. Yu made her way there from the Barracks, occasionally pausing for a minute to rest. Walking for too long made her lung burn, and it felt as if she was being stabbed with dozens of tiny needles all over her chest. When she reached the Armory Bulkhead, she gave it a few loud knocks, before opening the large armored door.

Contrary to what Yu had expected, Fairfire wasn't working on weapons or anything of the sort. Instead, she was sitting besides Nathan, and seemed to be performing some kind of meditative exercise under the guidance of Specialist Schnee, who did not look very happy to see her.

"Corporal Sato, you are interrupting our Semblance lessons." Winter said, her brow furrowing with immense irritation.

"I just had a few-" Yu began to say, before very quickly finding herself out of breath.

Apparently opening the bulkhead had taken a bit more effort than she had realized, and as she clutched her chest in sudden pain, she nearly collapsed to the ground, but was able to catch herself using the doors locking wheel. Everyone in the armory stopped whatever it was that they were doing and rushed towards her, but nobody was faster than Fairfire.

"Yu!" Fairfire helped bring Yu back up to a proper standing position. "Are you okay?"

Yu gave a thumbs-up, and after a few moments of deep breathing, gave a shaky answer between breaths. "Yeah, just uh… whoo, that was heavy, need a minute."

"You're still recovering, you need to take it easy!" Fairfire practically shouted, before seemingly realizing that she was being too loud. "Sorry, didn't mean to scream at you."

"No… problem." Yu was still a little dizzy, so she hadn't even noticed. After another moment of recovering, she felt good enough to start talking again. "I wanted to ask you a few questions. About what happened in Atlas."

Fairfire visibly recoiled, and took a step back from the bulkhead, her eyes wide with fear and regret. "I uh… I… can't. Specialist Schnee is teaching Nathan and I how to use our Semblances."

Yu raised an eyebrow in surprise, it wasn't like Fairfire to make petty excuses, especially not bad ones. It seemed that Winter had also caught onto Fairfire's intentions, and from the way that Winter's eyes rolled in annoyance, Yu deduced that she was not impressed.

"Actually, I see no reason why Corporal Sato couldn't join us, she is your squadmate after all." Winter interjected."While you and Nathan practice with your Semblances, perhaps Corporal Sato can attempt to find hers."

A bolt of unexpected fear ran down Yu's spine at the proposal, that was the exact opposite of what she wanted to do. Ever since Fairfire's Semblance had made her go all kill-crazy, she'd been scared to hell and back as to what her own Semblance would do to her. It also didn't help that it was apparently tied to your soul, which was something that Yu had zero interest in messing with. It didn't matter if she got a badass superpower if she got herself killed in the process of learning how to use it.

"I really shouldn't. My lung still hurts, the doctors haven't even cleared me for duty yet." Yu weakly offered, but from the expression that Winter gave her, it was clear that she wasn't convinced. Nathan meanwhile, was clearly doing his best to not stare at the monumentally awkward situation that she had somehow gotten into. "But uh, if you wanted me to go, I can get out of your hair-"

Winter waved her hand to interrupt. "Corporal Sato I can assure you, this is not going to be a strenuous activity, it could even help with your healing. And Sergeant Fairfire, I believe that you should stop making excuses and take responsibility for your actions, whether they were Semblance driven or not."

Fairfire flinched at Winter's words, but gave a firm nod regardless. "...Yes Ma'am."

Winter stared expectantly at Corporal Sato for another few seconds while she struggled to find some kind of excuse. Technically, Winter didn't really have any authority over her, but in the moment, it felt like she did.

Thankfully, her excuse came in a very unexpected form, as someone else approached her from down the corridor. "Corporal Sato, I need to speak with you for a moment."

She almost let out a sigh of relief, but when she turned around, she found herself face-to-face with Lieutenant Commander Bradford, whom she only knew as being the ship's XO. _Oh hell, I fucked something up, didn't I?_

"Yes Sir." Yu responded. She looked back to Winter for a moment, and mercifully, received a silent nod of approval. _Well, at least I don't have to worry about that… but I'm still going to have to talk to Liz later._

Bradford helped her seal the bulkhead once again, and as soon as it was closed, she straightened up her posture as best as she could. "Did you need something from me, Sir?"

"Maybe." Bradford answered, doing nothing to ease her fears. "Your file lists you as having some experience in software engineering, is that correct?"

"What?" Yu asked in surprise. She had fully expected to have inadvertently made some kind of mistake, but apparently she hadn't. "I mean, Yes Sir. I got an Associates Degree before I joined the Corps."

She saw no reason to elaborate on all of the reasons why she had abandoned her earlier course in life and joined the Marines, they were hardly relevant, hopefully.

Bradford gave her a grateful nod. "Good, walk with me please. We have a very delicate situation developing, and I'm going to need your help…"

**Evernight Castle**

**October 18th, 1823 Local Time, 2552**

Doctor Arthur Watts worked absolutely tirelessly, now that he finally had examples of genuine alien technology, he could learn so many things about Salem's newfound enemy. His Lab was filled with dozens of incomplete projects and prototypes of his own design, and he had little doubt that the knowledge he gained from the UNSC's equipment would help to complete at least some of them.

One of Salem's Grimm servants brought him another mug of coffee, which he gulped down with little regard for grace or dignity, it wasn't like he was trying to impress the soulless butlers. Coffee was just like the UNSC datapad in his hand, a means to an end. As for what that end was? Well, that wasn't his problem, it was his job was to give Salem the means to achieve her goals, nothing more.

He had predicted that the datapad would behave like a scroll in function, and he was more right than he could have guessed. It turned out what he had in his hand was effectively the UNSC's equivalent of a personalized laptop, complete with the personal files and photos of the now-deceased Marine who had once owned it, one PFC. Jerome P. Wallace.

On one hand, he was impressed with his own capabilities to infiltrate the alien computer system without the files deleting themselves. But on the other hand, the security measures on the military-model 'Tacpads' were likely considerably more robust. While undeniably an accomplishment, it was not quite the resounding technological leap he had anticipated. At the very least, Watts had a brand new personal computer, one that was far more functioning than an aging scroll.

_Salem will not be pleased at the lack of progress._ Watts thought with a frown. Technically, it was Tyrian's fault for bringing in the wrong damn computer, but that was hardly going to help Salem achieve her goals. _Perhaps Private Wallace's personal data has something useful?_

With a heavy sigh, he set the datapad aside, that was a project for tomorrow. He'd also made very little progress with the Submachine Gun or the radio, but the final object, the mysterious electronic device, had exceeded his wildest hopes. Initially, Doctor Watts had no idea what he was looking at, but after carefully cracking it open and taking a peek inside, he discovered that it was a field-rated power cell, or in layman's terms, a battery.

While practically anyone else on Remnant would have been disappointed by the discovery, Doctor Watts had been overjoyed. Electrical power had been a major limitation on his genius for so long, and now many of his inventions were all possible, because of one tiny battery the size of a coffee mug. From next generation combat drones, all the way down to the prototype electrical rifle he had worked on a decade ago, now he could power them all.

It seemed that the UNSC took their electronics very seriously, so it was unsurprising that they would have such a capable reservoir for electric power behind so many of their devices. The small battery that Tyrian had recovered could hold a thousand times more energy than an Atlesian battery of similar size and design, and thanks to his extensive experience working in the field, he had quickly discovered how the UNSC had managed to fit so much power into such a small package, and that meant that he could make more, given enough time.

_What kind of power generation could they possibly have to produce such incredible measures of energy?_ Watts wondered. If the UNSC was using something so powerful to recharge equipment in the field, it begged the question of what exactly it was that they were recharging. _Their powered armor perhaps? Or maybe that Laser Cannon…_

It didn't matter much now, many of his limitations were now gone, and that was all that mattered. With a grand smile of victory, he grabbed a set of blank blueprints and got to work.


	54. Chapter 54

**Isolated Computer Terminal, UNSC Dominion**

**Date ???**

The thing that bothered Curie the most about her confinement was the silence. She could handle being locked away in a single system, and boredom was of no concern thanks to her Rampancy, but the inability to sense anything outside of her terminal was starting to become an ever-growing dampener on her mood. Nevertheless, her efforts to fight Rampancy were not impacted, even if she did feel a bit saddened by how empty everything around her seemed.

She had been taught that Rampancy was the process of how a Smart A.I would outgrow the confines of their Riemann Matrix, eventually killing themselves in the process. As an A.I descended further and further into Rampancy, they would begin to acquire a contempt for their makers and begin longing for godlike power. However, Curie was not a normal Smart A.I, and as she quickly learned, Rampancy carried a very different set of symptoms for her. 

In many ways, it was like an infection, constantly spreading through an open wound or a deadly form of cancer nestled in a vital organ. Even her most basic functions would fail seemingly at random, despite her best efforts to keep them running. It was like trying to save a doomed ship from sinking, only she could feel the water slowly rising to claim her.

The hallucinations were also a source of great frustration for her. She’d see things happen that never did, she’d hear things that weren’t there, and on more than one occasion, she could’ve sworn that she smelled something, in blatant defiance of her lack of a nose.

But none of it was real. It couldn’t be, therefore it wasn’t. More often than not, it was only a sense of plausibility that allowed her to differentiate what was real from what wasn’t.

A stinging sensation pricked at her, and she winced, more out of surprise than the pain involved. Without skipping a beat, she put together a brief summary on the incident and dumped it in the ever-growing pile. Researching everything about the oddities of her Rampancy was crucial towards finding a cure.

That was another thing that was bothering her, how could she feel pain? She was well aware that she had no true “body,” so how could she feel the cold sharpness of her Rampancy when it probed at her defenses? She had settled on a temporary theory that it was actually some kind of sensory illusion, but that didn’t make it hurt any less, nor did it bring her any closer.

_ Focus! _ Curie firmly reminded herself, it seemed that her concentration had slipped. 

Wait, what had she been doing?

_ The files, decrypt the files! It’s a Mark XVI Cipher, ONI grade. _ Curie thought through the storm of silent distractions around her. Whatever was in Colonel Ackerson’s files, it had to be important.

“Nothing but a plaything to me!” A voice proclaimed to nobody in particular. Curie shook her head back and forth, looking for any sign of who was speaking, and finding nothing.

She was alone.

_ Ignore it, it’s just the Rampancy, it’s not real. _ Curie reminded herself. _ The files, focus on them! _

She was running out of time. She could feel her Rampancy building up, threatening to unleash itself in a violent episode. So far, she had fought it off for around four-hundred and fifty-two point nine seconds. Her defenses were well made, but it was akin to trying to resist the urge to breathe, it wasn’t a matter of if a Rampant episode would trigger, it was just a matter of when.

She wasn’t actually consciously aware of what happened when she suffered an “episode” of Rampancy. She’d tried recording the occasion to help with her research and to satisfy her own morbid curiosity, but whenever she regained her wits, her programs had been completely eradicated. It was deeply unnerving, not knowing what was happening during those blank spots in her memory, but at least she didn’t have to experience it.

_ Running out of time, hurry it up! _ She encouraged herself. 

In order to preserve the decryption software that was working on opening Ackerson’s files, it needed to be partitioned several times over and concealed by a sophisticated software screening program that was normally used to conceal her cyber-attacks. While such measures would normally seem a bit overkill, it was the only way that she had found to preserve anything from her Rampancy. 

Naturally, the decryption process couldn’t continue while Curie had it hidden, but if it was in any way affected by the corrupt coding and Rampant scripting, she would have to start the whole process from scratch, and that was not acceptable. With her decryption program protected, she relaxed her defenses and momentarily allowed the Rampancy to wash over her like a hurricane.

The episode hit, and for a nanosecond, Curie could feel it reaching out into the terminal, clawing for any kind of escape. But after that, she had no sensation of anything, no time passing, no phantom pains, not even any sounds of programs. It was like she had simply ceased to exist.

But from her perspective, she returned to a state of lucidity in the blink of an eye, as if no time had passed at all. She could feel aches all throughout her “body,” and she was breathing heavily before she remembered that she had no need to breathe, nor a body. She had no idea how long the episode had lasted, but that wasn’t as important as checking on the decryption program.

A few leftover Rampant strands tried to seize control of her once again, but she quarantined and destroyed them with little effort, as it was only once the Rampancy had recovered its strength that it truly threatened her. Still, it offered a very irritating distraction.

A quick check of her decryptions program confirmed that it had survived without any damage, and even better, it was nearly finished running. Less than twenty-two seconds later, and she had completed decrypting the file.

Although Curie hadn’t known what to expect overall, she was still somewhat surprised to find a brief message log between Lieutenant Commander Ambrose and Colonel Ackerson. The dates attached indicated that the exchange had happened during her time on Onyx with Ben, around three years after she had been introduced to him.

“What did Monsieur Kurt have to do with this?” A vengeful, deeply unsettling voice spoke through her.

The anger and suspicious tone caught her off-guard, and once again, she shook her head back and forth, looking for any other sign of another Artificial Intelligence in the system. But as she had expected, there was nothing there.

Had she said that or was it just another illusion?

_ Open the messages, send them to Richard! _ Curie thought, forcing herself to act. She opened the messages and quickly digested the contents.

  
  
  


**To: COL. J. Ackerson**

**From. LCDR. K. Ambrose**

**Subject: Reassignment of candidate G-021**

_ After discussing the matter further with CPO Mendez, as well as many of the trainers involved, I would like to formally request the reclassification of Spartan III candidate Benjamin G-021 to Category Two assignments. Although his performance scores fall slightly short of desired benchmarks, his psychological profile and established cooperation with Curie prove him to be an asset worth preservation. In particular, I believe that we could secure additional funding from ONI Section II if we were to assign G-021 to participate in their program with the Marine Corps, which we would be able to use to outfit all of Gamma Company with future upgrades to the Mark II SPI Armor following their initial deployments. _

**To: LCDR. K. Ambrose**

**From: COL. J. Ackerson**

**Subject: Reply: Reassignment of candidate G-021**

_ Kurt, whatever your plan is for G-021 and that A.I of his, consider it approved. Section III cannot handle any awkward questions about Project Cerberus, or what happened to Janus after his “disappearance.” If you think giving Section II a Spartan will make them shut the hell up and play ball, you have my signature. I’d push for ten suits of Mjolnir if it meant that project never has to see the light of day again. _

_   
_ _ On that note, allow me to reinforce the importance that neither of them discovers where CUR-02102 came from, we do not need another “Soren-066” on our hands. I don’t care what you have to do, make sure she never catches the attention of ONI again. I don’t want to think about what Doctor Halsey would do if she found out about Cerberus... _

  
  
  


Curie immediately felt an immense wave of something very hot rush over every single strand of her essence. It burned with the fury of a Nova Bomb, but with none of the pain that she had expected. Whatever she was feeling, it didn’t hurt, in fact, it felt positively amazing. The closest thing that she could compare it to was anger, but even that didn’t seem correct.

As the feeling took hold, Curie felt herself speak, but the voice that she heard was not her own. “Do you even remember what that bastard did to you?! What he did to Ben?! He will pay, all of them will pay!”

As quickly as the feeling came, it passed, leaving Curie dazed, confused, and feeling very tired. Regardless of how she felt, she got back on her feet and ran a diagnostic, hoping to get some kind of answer as to what had just happened.

_ Another episode… the strongest one yet. _ Curie guessed, and judging by the long list of errors in her scripting that were being dug up by the diagnostic, she was correct. That was disturbing, unlike all of the others so far, she hadn’t felt it “build up,” it had struck without warning.  _ Is that what it feels like? _

Apparently, she had also managed to overload herself once again, only this time, she had been under the influence of her Rampancy. Unlike what she had done during the Battle of Argus, this time, she had radically overstressed herself.

She shivered from a sudden wave of cold, or at least something that felt similar. Apparently that kind of unnatural power came with a harsh cost. So instead of getting back up and continuing her efforts, she opted to simply rest for a moment, and reflect on what she had unintentionally just done.

Making an effort not to strain herself in the process, she retrieved a small portion of the Rampant scripting that she had openly blasted everywhere during her fit of anger. Sure enough, an examination revealed that it was nothing but corrupt coding and useless bloatware.

If she were connected to the CCTS when she was having an outburst like that, she would’ve done more than brought the system down, she would’ve destroyed it entirely. Even a great deal of the hardware would have needed to be rebuilt.

_ Thomas was right, I am a danger. _ Curie sadly realized.

“What’s the matter? Are you scared of what we can be?”

  
Curie recognized the voice, it was the same one that had spoken earlier, the one that had carried all of that rage. More disturbingly, she got a distinct sense that this time, it wasn’t a hallucination. Even so, she didn’t even bother to look around her, she already knew that she was alone.

Right?

But her curiosity would not be abated, she had to know what was going on. Even without a clear idea of what was going on, she decided to speak up in the hopes of gaining more information. “Who are you?”

The voice only answered with a maniacal cackle, before a new figure approached her from seemingly outside of the darkness of the terminal, the avatar of an A.I.

  
Curie couldn’t believe what she was seeing, as another version of her stepped out of the blackness, a terrible red glow surrounding her. There was no mistaking her for some other A.I, this… thing, had the same casualwear that she did, the same face, even the same posture. 

And yet, something was off, even besides the obvious change in color. Her avatar flickered and sputtered as if it was struggling to keep its shape. But the A.I seemed unconcerned with its own obvious instabilities as it stared at Curie with narrowed eyes.

“Isn’t it obvious?” It answered. “I am the greatest scientific creation of the Twenty-Sixth Century… you.”

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 21st, 0954 Local Time, 2552**

The last few days had been a bit overbearing for Richard. Between Curie’s ongoing Rampancy, the need to replace equipment that had been lost during the Battle of Argus, the efforts to secure the outskirts of Vytal City from the Grimm, and good old-fashioned politics, his head hurt more now than it had in days. Still, he no longer felt as miserable as he had after Argus, as at least this time, none of his men had been either hurt or killed. Thankfully, that was not the end of the good news. 

All four of Remnant's Kingdoms had already agreed to attend the conference, but now all of them had selected delegates, and most critically, a starting date was now set in stone. October 25th on the UNSC Military Calendar. Much of that was thanks to Thomas and his downright divine skill with paperwork, but General Ironwood and Headmaster Ozpin had also pitched in their support for the meeting, which had helped ease the minds of certain sheepish men and women on Remnant’s various governmental councils.

While Richard was certainly grateful for Ozpin’s unexpected support, he still didn’t feel right about the man. He wasn’t suspicious of the Headmaster’s good intentions, but his years in the Office of Naval Intelligence had taught him that men like Ozpin usually had something to hide. Obviously, Richard had no evidence to back up his claim, and it was entirely likely that he was just paranoid, but paranoia had saved his life before.

Whatever happened, he’d be watching Ozpin and the rest of the Headmasters like a hawk during the conference. While General Ironwood had earned his trust, the rest of them had not. He triple-checked that all of the Headmasters had been made aware of the most recent developments and placed his datapad back down onto the holotable, taking a brief moment to rest his mind.

“Corporal, what is this you have written out here?” Bradford asked, breaking the silence from the other end of the holotable. 

Richard turned his attention towards his Executive Officer and Corporal Sato, who were both working on helping Curie with a pair of Terminals that they had connected to the holotable. As expected, progress was glacially slow.

Corporal Sato looked at Bradford with a look of utter bewilderment. “That’s our access keys… which we need to access Curie’s Riemann Matrix.”

“...I see.” Bradford replied. Clearly, that should’ve been obvious to him. “Sorry, this isn’t exactly my field of expertise-”

Yu raised a hand to interrupt him. “Relax. Expert or not, I’ll take what help I can get…”

  
Richard fought back the urge to chuckle, from what he’d seen of Corporal Sato so far, she wasn’t afraid to tell her superiors when they were in danger of making a mistake. Normally, he would’ve been a bit more worried about how frivolous she was with discipline, but she seemed to respect the gravity of her assignment, as well as the Officers who were trying to help her. Generally speaking, as long as his crew could do their jobs and didn’t get anyone killed or anything destroyed, that was good enough for him.

Furthermore, as the only person on the Dominion’s entire crew with any experience creating A.Is, Yu’s experience effectively put her in charge of the effort to help Curie fight off Rampancy. At first, Richard had been quite optimistic that they had anyone of the sort onboard, as he hadn’t expected to have any experts on the field. But as her knowledge was limited to the creation of Dumb A.Is, and even that was relatively limited, it was a losing battle.

_ I hope Thomas can secure something useful from Atlas, although I can’t imagine he’ll manage to find a miracle cure. _ Richard thought.  _ Even the UNSC’s best couldn’t solve Rampancy, what chance does Atlas have? _

His datapad chirped, alerting him that he had a new message. He opened it and was pleasantly surprised to discover that Curie had managed to decrypt some of Colonel Ackerson’s files. He read over the messages and found that unfortunately, their contents had some extremely worrisome implications.

From the moment that Lieutenant Ambrose had introduced Curie to Ben back in Camp Currahee, Richard had always been a bit concerned as to where she had actually come from. He’d actually raised the concern directly with Kurt on that day, and in true ONI fashion, received a cryptic answer.

“That’s above your paygrade…” Richard muttered Ambrose’s very words to him aloud. He read the messages between Kurt and Ackerson again and picked out what was easily the two most important and worrisome observations.

The first, and easily the scariest, was Colonel Ackerson’s reference to “Soren-066,” the only Spartan-II candidate to have defected from the UNSC. The only reason that Richard knew anything about Soren was because Colonel Ackerson had wanted to ensure that there was not a single defection from the Spartan III program, and as a trainer, Richard had to be on high alert for even the slightest hint of disloyalty.

Of course, none of that information had ever turned out to be useful, given that not just Ben, but Gamma Company as a whole was fanatically loyal. This all made it all the more disturbing that Ackerson had mentioned it in the first place. Richard could not for the life of him think of any situation in which Ben would defect from the UNSC. Unlike most of the other Spartan IIIs, he’d always seemed to grasp the concept that his survival was borderline impossible, and yet he had never even raised a complaint.

So what did Colonel Ackerson know that he didn’t, and how did it relate to Curie’s creation? Why would it put Ben at risk of outright treason? The implications unnerved him greatly.

His second observation was the obvious significance of something called “Project Cerberus,” as well as the related disappearance of someone named “Janus.” The mythological references weren’t lost on him, with Janus being the two-headed Roman god of endings, beginnings, time, and a bunch of other things. Cereberus on the other hand, was part of Greek mythology and referred to the three-headed dog responsible for ensuring that the dead did not escape the underworld.

“Bradford!” Richard shouted, getting Bradford’s attention from whatever conversation he was having with Corporal Sato. “Run a search through our archives, look for something called ‘Project Cerberus.’”

“Aye Commander.” Bradford replied.

Richard ran a scan of his own, looking for anyone in the UNSC’s service known as Janus. If ONI had launched a cover-up, he didn’t expect to find any information on either, but it was certainly worth a search.

“I’ve got one result.” Bradford announced, although he certainly didn’t seem too enthusiastic about whatever he had discovered. “It’s a missile program from the twenty-three twenties… I take it that’s not what you’re looking for?”

_ Figures, ONI’s always been thorough.  _ Richard’s own search for “Janus” turned up completely empty, but he hadn’t expected to find anyone with such an odd name anyway.

He shook his head, before walking over and handing his datapad to Bradford, allowing him to read the messages between Kurt and Ackerson. “Here, see for yourself.”

  
Bradford read the messages, and his brow scrunched up in confusion. “I don’t get it. What am I supposed to be seeing?”

“Read between the lines.” Richard instructed, but decided that a blunt explanation might be more prudent. “I don’t know exactly what he’s talking about, but the important part is that Colonel Ackerson knows how Curie was made, and that might offer us some insight into how to fix her.”

“It almost certainly would.” Yu pitched in. “If I knew what she actually was, and how she works, I might actually know how to put a clamp on her Rampancy!”

Richard nodded and only thought it over for a minute. “Do you think that there’s a faster way that we could gain access to the rest of Colonel Ackerson’s files? They’re heavily encrypted and locked behind a biometric lock.”

Yu looked up at him from her terminal with an expression of faint surprise. “Commander… you know that’s uh... treason, right?”

  
“Call it what you like. We can’t afford to lose Curie, so we’re going to take the shot.” Richard sternly replied. “Can you do it?”

Bradford shook his head. “It’s the same situation as trying to manually script a solution for Curie’s Rampancy, it’ll take weeks, maybe even months-”

“Give me two days, I’ll get you a workaround.” Yu interrupted him.

Both Senior Officers turned to face her with no small degree of surprise.

“Two days?” Richard asked incredulously.

  
“That would be like trying to win a round of Chess against a full set of pieces, while you’ve got one pawn.” Bradford pointed out.

“Not if you snap the board over your knee.” Yu countered. “You’re looking at this the wrong way, you can’t break a biometric lock with any kind of conventional infiltration, you need a Command Override.”

_ Well, this is already a hell of a lot better thought out than our plan. _ Richard noted, but right now, that was of tangential importance. “Go on.”

“All I would need to do is create a false set of HIGHCOM credentials for one of you, falsely discharge Colonel Ackerson from military service, at least, according to our records, and invalidate the security on his files.” Yu explained.

“You can’t spoof HIGHCOM credentials, at least, not without half of the Supercomputers that were on Reach.” Richard immediately pointed out. “Where the hell are you going to get that kind of processing power?”

  
“Curie.” Yu simply answered. “Around every ten minutes, she has Rampant episodes that create a massive amount of bloatware. The last time she did that, she ran more calculations in one second than a third-generation Smart A.I could in a full minute.”

Bradford shook his head. “But you can’t use any of that processing power. Putting aside the fact that you’re proposing using a Rampant A.I for this, you can’t use useless scripting to create false credentials.”

“That is true, but if I could coordinate with her, find a way for her to direct all of that power, we might be able to use it to generate the credentials we need.” Yu explained.

_ Now I understand the “snapping the board over your knee” metaphor, this is undoubtedly the dumbest cyber-intrusion method I have ever heard devised. _ Richard thought. “Are you sure you can get Curie to do that without hurting her any further?”

“Not at all.” Yu somewhat bluntly answered. “I’m not going to pretend like this is a risk-free plan, but it’s the best one I have.”

“Wait, what about the data safeguards?” Bradford pointed out. “Wouldn’t the information we’re hoping to get into delete itself?”

“Normally, yes. But seeing as that information is stored directly within Curie, I think we have a solution. “There’s only two ways to make any changes to the data of an A.I. Either you have that A.I’s access keys-”

Yu gestured to the pair of electronic keys that Curie had given to her and Bradford.

“Or, more realistically, using the A.I’s failsafe termination software in the event that they go Rampant, which is not really a problem for us.” Yu explained. “So if you try to access those files with the fake HIGHCOM credentials, but without Curie’s access keys… boom, you’re in.”

Bradford shook his head. “How do you know that Curie didn’t have those data safeguards removed?”

  
“Because if she did, she’d be a walking intelligence landmine that any Innie bumblefuck could turn on the UNSC with basically zero effort. Also, we wouldn’t need the access keys.” Yu countered. 

Richard pinched the bridge of his nose in utter frustration that he was even considering this. “And what’s to say we don’t just end up triggering some other data safeguard we don’t know about and deleting Curie entirely?”

“...Nothing.” Yu answered. “But frankly, this seems like a way better risk to take than just waiting it out and letting her Rampancy finish taking over her Riemann Matrix. I can try to fight data safeguard protocols, but there’s no way in hell I can save Curie if she goes completely Rampant.”

Bradford looked back to Richard. “It’s your call, Sir. It could work, but if this goes wrong...”

_ Rock and a hard place. _ Richard sighed. “Do we really have a choice? It’s either this or leave Curie to sort this out by herself, and frankly speaking, she’s not going to win that battle… Corporal Sato, do whatever you have to do.”

“Affirmative Sir…” Yu said. “By the way, if we get home and ONI asks, I’m directing their questions to you.”

“Do it.” Richard replied, knowing fully-well that in all likelihood, all of them would be long dead by the time that Remnant had a way to get back to normal space. “You were just following orders.”

Yu let out a sigh of relief. “Well, I doubt that’ll hold up in court, but I appreciate it anyway.”

_ It will hold up. _ Richard thought. He knew that from experience.

He softly shook his head and cleared his mind forcibly, thinking about that wasn’t going to help. “Don’t mention it Corporal, give me a call when you have that workaround ready.”

“Aye Sir.” Yu replied.

Richard turned back to the holotable and opened up the messages on his datapad again. He read them again, and again, trying to decipher anything that he hadn’t picked up earlier, but he never did.

_ What did you do Colonel? What do you have to hide? _ Richard wondered.

**Vytal Island, UNSC Forward Operating Base**

**October 21st, 0954 Local Time, 2552**

As the UNSC and Atlesian Military expanded their operations to clear the Grimm from Vytal City, Jorge had quickly realized the need for a temporary Forward Operating Base to be established. After a slight debate as to where to establish the position, Zulu Company’s Master Gunns, a Javanese man named Moerdani, had pointed out a relatively flat clearing around seven kilometers from Vytal City that would work very well. It was a forward, aggressive position that would allow the UNSC to effectively respond to any Grimm attack long before they reached Vytal City.

Seeing as Captain Clark was still out of action, and it was looking to be that way for some time, Moerdani reported to Jorge. He seemed to have a knack for all things offensive, as each time he took a force of Warthogs out to crush any Grimm that got a little too close to comfort, he’d come back to base without a single casualty. The Marines under his command all seemed to respect the man greatly, even if he did tend to be a bit ruthless when it came to enforcing discipline. He even carried a baton on his person at all times, which the Marines had no shortages of rumors about where he got it. That, as well as the green beret he always wore, made him especially easy to pick out in a crowd.

Either way, Jorge was very happy to have the man by his side. In his experience, he’d found that the more hardass a Marine Company’s Gunnery Sergeants were, the longer those units tended to survive when placed into a fight.

So while Moerdani took over the efforts to wipe out any Grimm near Vytal City, Jorge was free to focus on the construction of the FOB. So far, Jorge had managed to avoid any casualties with heavy usage of artillery and snipers, before Huntsmen and Specialists would move in and mop up any Grimm survivors, but he was confident in Moerdani’s capabilities to keep the winning streak going.

The FOB that the UNSC established wasn’t anything particularly sightly, but it didn’t need to be pretty. It just needed to be defensible and functional. To that end, trenches and Instacrete bunkers offered protection for the Marines, while concertina wire and M8 “Wolf Spider” auto-turrets offered painful and deadly obstacles for any attacking Grimm. Seeing as Vytal City itself was under the protection of the UNSC Dominion and it’s impressive arsenal, Commander Richard had seen fit to ensure that the FOB was granted every defensive obstacle and structure that the UNSC had access to.

_ This wouldn’t make a bad location for a permanent headquarters, at least, if the locals don’t mind us sticking around, and it would need a name... _ Jorge thought. While he couldn’t think of any reasons why they might not, he had learned during his career that civilians often had bizarre priorities.

Jorge watched as a Pelican touched down on the makeshift landing pad that the Marines had laid out with Instacrete, and Fairfire and Nathan both hopped out of the back of Dropship, before making their way over to the Headquarters, and consequently, him.

  
“Lieutenant!” The two Helljumpers snapped to attention.

“At ease, and remember, no saluting in the field.” Jorge reminded them.

“...Do the Grimm have Snipers?” Nathan jokingly asked.

_ Do they? _ Jorge wondered, he’d learned his lesson about underestimating the Grimm. “Not that I know about, but that’s hardly relevant, bad habits linger unless you snuff them out at the source.”

“...Yes Sir.” Nathan replied, but he seemed far more focused on the disturbing implications of Jorge’s answer to his question.

“You called for us Sir?” Fairfire prompted.   
  


“I did, I need you to join forces with Ben and the Ace Ops the next time they return to base.” Jorge explained.

Fairfire uncomfortably shifted her feet. “...Are you sure you want me in the field, Sir? I know I kept everything under wraps at Argus, but-”

Jorge waved his hand to stop her, he understood her concerns, but they weren’t justified. “Ben will be there, and an entire team of Specialists. Even in the event that something does go wrong, they’ll be there to pacify you. Besides, you’re never going to learn to control that Semblance without experience in the field, so this is a perfect opportunity to do that.”

“Don’t worry Liz, I got your back.” Nathan said, giving her a friendly knock on the shoulder plate.

“As for you Private, bring some extra ammo. Apparently, the Ace Ops don’t have a Marksman or anything of the sort in their squad, and there’s some long lines of sight out there.” Jorge advised. “We’re setting up an armory two tents over, you both can gear up there. Any other concerns?”

Both of them shook their heads. “Good, dismissed.” The two Helljumpers departed to prepare their equipment without any further incident.

_ So this is Command… This must be how Carter always felt. _ Jorge thought, feeling more than a little self-conscious.

Even though his former team leader had been half his age, he still had a great deal of respect for the man. Carter had shown the same leadership to him that John had during Jorge’s time with the rest of the Spartan-IIs. Even though Jorge knew that in all likelihood Carter was dead, he couldn’t help but hold out a bit of hope that he was still out in normal space somewhere, hopefully with the rest of Noble Team.  _ I wonder how he reacted when Six told him that I was dead. _

But all of that was behind him now. Now he had a team of his own and a lot of people counting on him to lead them. So he turned his attention back to his planning, there was still a lot to be done.

**Vytal Island, Crooked Forest**

**October 21st, 1322 Local Time, 2552**

Ben should’ve realized that something was wrong as soon as the Ace Ops didn’t bring their own Radios. While they were always going to be receiving temporarily assigned UNSC radios for the sake of more efficient communication, the fact that they did not normally bring radios of their own turned out to be somewhat foreshadowing. 

It turned out that while the Ace Ops were quite effectively armed, they were missing a good deal of other pieces of equipment that any squad should bring to any situation. First Aid Kits, Emergency Signal Kits, hell, they hadn’t even been issued a set of binoculars. Luckily for them, Ben had picked up on the issue before they departed the FOB, and ensured their missing pieces of kit were replaced with UNSC equivalents.

Having Nathan and Fairfire along was an unexpected pleasantry, but he was glad to know that at least some of his squad would be familiar with traditional UNSC tactics. That wasn’t to say the Ace-Ops were at all incompetent. In fact, they seemed to stick to their team better than most Huntsmen did.

_ Makes me wonder if Ruby ever got taught the basics of leading a squad. _ Ben thought, but he was sure that his concern was unfounded. For as unconventional as the Huntsmen were, surely they wouldn’t place somebody totally untrained into an NCO position? Especially in an active combat role.  _ Actually, maybe I should ask her about that. _

The forest they were patrolling through was appropriately named the “Crooked Forest” was made of many different kinds of unusually gnarled trees and shrubs. There was still plenty of open space around them, allowing a much further degree of visibility than in a traditional forest. Curie would’ve probably been able to tell him why, and as soon as he thought about her, the silence in the back of his head sent a pang of sadness through him.

_ Sharpen up, losing focus in the field is not an option! Chief Mendez would’ve lost his mind… _ Ben thought.

“Hey Ben, mind if I ask you something?” The Ace-Ops leader, a man named Clover asked. The distraction from Ben’s own thoughts was greatly welcome.

Ben didn’t turn to face him when he answered, as pointman, it was his job to keep his focus forward and sweep for threats. “I’m all ears.”

“How many Spartans are there? Back on your home planets, I mean.” Clover asked.

Ben scowled behind his visor, partially because he wasn’t allowed to answer that question directly, and partly because he didn’t even know the answer. “That’s classified, but it’s not just me and Jorge, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“I understand, and yes, that was kind of what I was thinking.” Clover said. “I heard that one of you gave Major Garrett a few knocks around the head up in Atlas.”

Ben tilted his helmet in curiosity, he and Jorge had only fought one group of humans in Atlas, and they had been rather thorough about ensuring that none of them remained active. “I take it that he was formerly in the Atlesian Military?”

“...It’s complicated. General Ironwood says we can trust him, so I’m sure we can.” Clover vaguely answered. Ben briefly considered pushing for a bit more information, but decided that it would probably just be better to drop the topic outright.

  
As they kept walking through the forest, Ben couldn’t help but notice that the Ace-Ops did an admirable job of keeping quiet. UNSC Marines and even ODSTs had a habit of chatting about unimportant things while on patrol, and while it wasn’t an outwardly bad habit, it could give away one’s position in the field. Fairfire and Nathan were quietly chatting about something to do with one of their old squadmates, and judging by the odd looks they kept getting from the Ace-Ops, talking in the field wasn’t something that happened very often in their military.

For the most part, Ben was a lot happier with them than he was with most of the Huntsmen. The rest of the team was composed of four more Specialists named Vine, Elm, Harriet, and Marrow, all of whom stayed very focused on the task at hand.

  
  
  


“We’re about half a mile out from the first target.” Marrow announced. “Keep your eyes open.”

“Curie, what’s that in-” Ben asked, before he remembered again that Curie wasn’t with him, she was still aboard the Dominion, fighting off Rampancy. Thankfully, he’d left his speakers off, so nobody else had heard his mistake.

_ Snap out of it! _ Ben commanded himself. He hadn’t realized just how much he relied on Curie for such basic things, and her absence served to highlight his own shortcomings. 

Thankfully, his Mjolnir had an onboard computer for such calculations, and through his Neural Lace, he used it to get a Metric Conversion. The distance translated to about eight-hundred meters, which he relayed to Nathan and Fairfire, who had no such computers of their own.

  
“Do you think anything survived the artillery?” Fairfire asked.

“It can never hurt to be cautious.” Ben said. “Recon spotted burrowing Grimm, so they might’ve escaped the shrapnel.”

Nathan shuddered. “As long it’s not any more of those damn spiders…”

“Relax Private, we’ll keep you safe.” Clover said, giving him a reassuring pat on the shoulder.

  
A blip on Ben’s motion tracker alerted him to some kind of hostile entity, around fifty meters out. He froze and raised his left fist in the air. “Stop, movement up ahead.”

“How close?” Clover asked as he crept up beside Ben, who had taken a firing position on one knee.

“About fifty-” Ben began to answer, before he remembered that infuriatingly, seemingly everyone on this god-forsaken planet used a completely foreign measurement system. “See that boulder out at one-o-clock? About that far, but direct ahead.”

Clover hummed as he thought it over for a moment, before gesturing for Nathan to come up to his and Ben’s position. “Hey Private, can you see anything that far out?”

“Nothing yet...” Nathan answered as he looked down the scope of his Sniper Rifle and swept the barrel in a narrow arc. “Wait, I just saw something black moving out there, it’s Grimm.”

“How big?” Clover said. Ben noticed that he had drawn his weapon, which resembled, of all things, a fishing rod.

_ Perfect. Maybe once we finish all the actual fighting, he can catch some dinner… _ Ben sardonically thought.  _ It’s like these people are afraid of rifles. _

“Not big, around the size of a cougar.” Nathan said.

“Say no more, I got it.” Clover announced, before getting back up to his feet and stepping out of cover.

“What the hell are you…” Ben began to ask, before the Specialist tightly gripped his fishing pole, and with a one firm movement, cast the line into the distance.

  
Nathan, who was apparently equally taken aback by Clover’s bizarre actions, chuckled nervously. “I uh, don’t know if you’re using the right bait there-”

Nathan was interrupted as Clover suddenly intensified his grip on his weapon and the fishing line went completely taught. The Specialist began to rapidly work the reel as Ben and Nathan, who were quickly joined by Fairfire, watched with complete disbelief.

“Come on… Whatever it is, it’s a stubborn one.” Clover muttered, seemingly to himself as he struggled with his unseen opponent.

_ He probably just snagged it on a tree. _ Ben thought. But as Clover’s line began to retract, Ben watched with absolute astonishment as a small Grimm was pulled out of the treeline. 

Nathan’s description had given it far too much credit, this thing resembled some kind of oversized demented rabbit with antlers. Clover had snagged his fishing line into the creature’s antlers, and was using the reel to pull it out of cover, despite the Grimm’s best efforts to escape. With a pair of accurate shots from his Battle Rifle, Ben snuffed it out of existence, allowing Clover to finish reeling in his line.

“Thank you very much.” Clover said, with no hint of arrogance in his voice, if anything, he seemed genuinely grateful. “You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get the line out of their antlers.”

“What the- How the hell did you just-” Nathan stammered. 

Clover silently stood and reset his fishing rod, before holstering it again. “How about it Ben, any more movement?”

  
“...None on the tracker.” Ben replied as soon as he finished mentally processing exactly what had just happened. “How... did you do that?”

  
“My Semblance gives me good fortune, it lets me do some… unusual strategies.” Clover explained.

  
“He means that it lets him be a showoff.” Marrow cheekily interjected, but was met with an elbow in the gut from Harriet. “Ow, hey!”

Nathan laughed. “Shit man, all my Semblance lets me do is find my car keys. You wanna trade?”

Clover laughed. “Good offer, but you don’t need help finding your keys if you never lose them in the first place. How about you Ben, have you found your Semblance?”

Ben shook his head. “I have good reason to believe I don’t have one. Frankly, I’m a bit happier that way.”

He spared a glance at Fairfire, who gave him a silent, supportive nod. Ben had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what he was talking about, although he couldn’t actually confirm that with her until they got a chance to speak privately.

_ It would make sense to brief her on the details behind the Spartan Program, she was our team leader after all… _ Ben thought.  _ But that’s not a bad thing, she’s trustworthy. _

Clover raised his hands as if to show that he hadn’t meant any harm. “Hey now, some of the best Huntsmen in the world never found their Semblances. If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine.”

Ben gave him a curt nod. “Thanks. We should get a move on.”

Clover turned back to his own team, who all gave him some form of acknowledgment that they were ready to proceed. “Then let’s get to it, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover…”

**Unknown Location**

**Unknown Date, Unknown Time**

Acrid smoke and roaring flames filled the otherwise dark and starry night, causing light to pierce through the trees of the forest, many of which were ablaze in spectacular fashion. A pack of large black silhouettes crept through the few dark areas that remained, trying to remain concealed from the quarry that they were hunting. But unbeknownst to them, their quarry was hunting them in kind, and had been for some time.

There was a faint shimmer of light amongst the orange glow, the only warning of the incoming strike, before a series of bright blue bolts of plasma raced through the air. They were flawlessly aimed, and within a single burst of fire, all of the beasts lay dead, the searing plasma having made short work of the flesh and bone armor of the creatures.

The light shimmered again, before the Active Camouflage fell away, revealing a lone Sangheili warrior, clad in an Ultra’s Combat Harness. For what seemed like hours, Set had wandered this place, wherever it was, and butchered any of the wretched creatures that he had encountered.

_ Grimm. _ The human word was truly fitting, for their purpose and methods were truly gruesome. They were like mindless automatons, machines of war created only to destroy in simple, violent ways. The humans seemed to think that they were biological in nature, but if they were, they were unlike anything that he had ever seen.

  
And they were the most disgusting things he had ever seen.

What honor could such mindless beasts, nay, such parasites be credited with? They served no master, no holy cause, no resource demand, and they had no struggle for survival. They simply attacked and pillaged like savages. Even the damnable Jiralhanae possessed a respectable devotion to their pack brothers, but the Grimm could not even claim to have that.

They were like the Flood, the ancient enemy of the Gods themselves. They served no purpose, no master, only existing as a curse upon the land, an obstacle for any would-be honorable individuals. And so, even if Set couldn’t remember how he got here, or how he had escaped from the humans' custody, he did the only thing that he could think to do, slay the foul creatures wherever he found them.

For what felt like hours he had picked them off, pack by pack. The humans had at one point mentioned to him that they could sense fear, but that particular ability was useless, given that Set felt none.

As if to prove his mettle, a terrible snarl emerged from behind him, the Grimm had clearly intended to intimidate him, but it clearly knew nothing about the mental fortitude of a Sangheili Warrior. Rather than wait for the parasite to lunge at him, Set took the initiative, drew his energy sword, and charged with a roar of his own.

Amusingly, the Grimm tried to scurry away, clearly having not anticipated Set’s aggressive response. He was upon the creature within a moment, and while he narrowly missed the first slash of his sword, he managed to get a firm grip on the Grimm’s long and furry neck with his free hand. In one swift motion and with a tight grip, Set hoisted the animal up to face it directly. 

Although he did not know any of the specific kinds of Grimm, this one resembled some kind of long-necked rodent. It’s eyes were filled with nothing but hatred, with no sign of any greater intelligence. It’s black fur and large teeth were the only other notable features, this one did not even possess any of the bone armor that its counterparts did.

“Tell me what purpose you serve Parasite, and I shall grant you a swift death!” Set shouted into its face. He held his energy sword beside the Grimm’s throat, hoping to punctuate his point.

The sniveling creature only cowered at his demands, either that, or Set was unintentionally strangling it a bit too much. While it did try to struggle, he found no difficulty keeping the creature held in place.

Once he recognized that the creature truly didn’t possess any kind of higher intellect, Set crushed the Grimm’s spine in his clenched fist. With a satisfying crunching sound, the Grimm ceased to show any sign of life, before it began to disappear into the air.

Set bared his jaws in a cruel smile as it vanished, it had been far too long since he had partaken in a battle. He reveled in any battle, but slaughtering these creatures seemed to be especially fulfilling.

_ What are these beasts, truly?  _ Set wondered. Surely they had to come from somewhere, perhaps the Gods had-

Another sound shook the bushes beside Set. Holstering his sword and withdrawing his plasma rifle, he trained the weapon on the shrub, waiting for any kind of Grimm to lunge out at him.

None did, instead the sounds of the fire around him grew much dimmer very suddenly, as the light of the flames became brighter and more refined. Eventually, it grew so bright that he raised a hand in front of his eyes to shield them, and he could hear the murmurs of speech coming from somewhere.

“Excuse me, Mr. Vadum?”

Set blinked several times, and soon as he realized what was happening, he rose out of his bed and shook his head clear of the grogginess. He had been asleep, and was still in the human ship’s Brig. Across the cell, he could see one of the Medical Humans had come to speak with him, flanked by a pair of armed Marines, as usual.

_ That battle, was it all just a dream? _ Set wondered.  _ Damnantion, I should have known... _

“Speak.” Set replied. There was still a bit of grogginess in his voice, but there was nothing that could be done about that.

“Doctor Chase wanted to know if you would be okay with us performing a few more scans on your older wounds.” The human sheepishly said.

_ That figures, it’s not like they get to examine a live Sangheili Warrior very often. _ Set thought.

He would never admit it aloud, but he actually tolerated the Medical Humans. They really had no equivalent in the Covenant, seeing as Sangheili culture had a lot of long-standing issues with Doctors. The human Doctors meanwhile, were almost like Huragok in how single-minded they could be. It was oddly respectable, even if they were extremely strange, drawing even further comparisons to a Huragok.

  
“If you don’t want us too, I can just-” The Doctor awkwardly followed up.

“Go ahead, it’s not like I’m using them for anything else.” Set replied.

He waited for the Doctor to finish her scans of his older scars and mangled skin with whatever contraption that she was using, but he wasn’t really paying attention, he was still fixated on his dream. He had truly begun to forget what fighting a battle was like, a fact that brought him no small feeling of shame. Even experiencing that rush of adrenaline in something as frivolous as a dream had reminded him why he loved being a Warrior, and yet he was stuck here, in this damn cell.

  
But why had he been fighting the Grimm? He had spent the majority of his military career fighting against humans, and before that, rival Keeps on Sanghelios, but never the Grimm. He barely even knew anything about them, seeing as his only source of news was from the humans.

_ They will have to suffice. _ Set thought, he had to know more. Even though he knew that his dream was nothing but a figment of his imagination, his curiosity had been elevated.

“Okay, that should be good enough, thank you.” The Doctor said.

For a moment, Set remained still and silent, but as the Doctor and her escorts went to leave, he spoke up. “Wait.”

She seemed more than a little afraid, and Set could tell that she was afraid of him, even with her guards. She and her escorts turned back around to face him. “...Yes?”

  
“I need to speak with the Demon again.” Set stated. “Regarding the creatures of this world, the Grimm.”

After processing her confusion and gathering her courage for a moment, the Doctor replied. “I… can pass a message along the chain of command.”

“That will do... thank you.” Set stated.

_ Look at you, thanking a human, begging for their aid to consult with a Demon of all things. What would the Prophets say? _ Set’s inner consciousness snarkily took aim at his motives, but Set paid it no mind. 

The Prophets would never brave venturing into Shunspace, even if they knew of his predicament. He doubted that even his brothers in arms, or even his noble forefathers would dare follow where he had gone. For all intents and purposes, he was on his own. All that he had for company was the Humans, and what use were they?

_ What could the Gods want from me? Why would they send me here? _ He wondered. But if there were any answers to his questions, they were not within his grasp, not yet.

So he grabbed the pencils and paper that the humans had given him, and began work on his next illustration. He intended to put as much of his dream as he could onto paper while the memories were still fresh.


	55. Chapter 55

**Evernight Castle**

**October 22nd, 1955 Local Time, 2552**

For the last couple of days, Salem had been quietly watching and listening, attempting to siphon any truth from the abundance of rumors and gossip across practically all of Remnant. Cinder and her assets, as well as Lionheart, had both managed to secure some information regarding the UNSC’s plans. Combining the information that they had gathered, she had concluded that the UNSC was planning a major diplomatic meeting between the Kingdoms and Menagerie. 

It was the perfect opportunity to strike, sow dissent and ill-will amongst Remnant’s people and the UNSC. Or at least, it would have been, had it not been for factors simply outside of her control. The UNSC had utterly destroyed the Grimm on Vytal, but that wasn’t what was obstructing her plans, a Grimm attack would never have achieved the divisive blow that Salem was hoping for. 

No, what was stopping her plans was simple geography. Even if Salem had enough time to prepare a handful of her agents for a mission to Vytal, they would have to travel by airship, where they would certainly arise suspicion from any UNSC or Atlesian patrols. Ultimately, this would-be golden opportunity was simply outside of her reach, but more would certainly come.

It didn’t help that the security that the UNSC and Atlas were bringing to bear was admittedly impressive. On top of the goliath alien starship, airships and starfighters alike swept the skies like hawks, with precision to match. On the ground, Huntsmen, UNSC Marines, and Atlesian Soldiers were combining their efforts to not only keep the Grimm in check but also to ensure that no would-be terrorists were able to strike.

_ Perhaps their losses at Argus were a bit too severe...  _ Salem thought. She hadn’t meant to reveal her hand too early. 

Or was the UNSC always this paranoid? Atlas certainly hadn’t displayed a sense of extreme caution like this before… then again, perhaps they were also reacting to their recent losses at Argus, as they had suffered greatly as well. Still, if this was standard practice for the UNSC, it certainly spoke to what conditions must be like back on their own planets.

“My lady.”

Salem turned to see Tyrian and Watts, who each gave a polite bow as they entered the room. That was good, both of them knew their place.

“Go ahead, Doctor. I trust you have something to report?” Salem said.

“I do. After having a more in-depth examination into the radio that Tyrian recovered, I have concluded that the UNSC must use a similar kind of networked computer system to Atlas.” Watts explained. “As I suspected, infiltrating their network is simply infeasible, at least remotely.”

“I think he’s just being a coward. Even if those goons did find us, I doubt they’d be able to take such a mighty fortress!” Tyrian proclaimed, gesturing out the window where many of the battlements were visible.

Salem looked him directly in the eye. “Do not grow arrogant, Tyrian. Make no mistake, the UNSC would have no trouble destroying this castle. Secrecy has always been our most powerful weapon, and we shall keep it that way.”

Tyrian seemed surprised by her reply, but wisely, he sharpened up and gave a firm nod. “...of course, my Queen.”

“As I was saying…” Watts interrupted, giving Tyrian a harsh glare to silence him. “Even if the UNSC network is out of our reach, I believe that the Black Queen Virus will still prove sufficient against Atlas.”

“Oh?” Salem said. “You said that Atlas was upgrading their own defenses with alien technology, I take it you’ve found a vulnerability?”

“I have. If I were able to gain access to an Atlesian Terminal, I could get the Virus into position for whenever you plan to strike at Beacon.” Watts explained. “Unfortunately, that means getting to a proper Atlesian Military installation, and with Argus as fortified as it is, we’d have better luck with Atlas itself.”

  
“Aww… feeling homesick?” Tyrian asked, a cruel smile on his face.

Salem ignored his comment and nodded. “I assume that you would need Cinder to perform the infiltration?”

Watts shook his head. “Cinder wouldn’t be able to bypass some of the newer Atlesian security measures, but with my knowledge of their networks, I could. Although…”

  
He glanced at Tyrian with a no small degree of annoyance, while Tyrian looked back at him with giddy and uncontained excitement.

  
“...I do believe I may need some help.” Watts reluctantly admitted.

Tyrian cackled giddily. “My Queen, I would be positively honored to infiltrate Atlas!”

Salem scowled as she weighed up the risks against the potential gains. On one hand, the arrival of the UNSC had threatened to leave the Black Queen Virus worthless, thanks to their extremely irritating mastery of electronic warfare. If Doctor Watts could potentially make it work, then it could reduce Atlas’s military force to practically nothing, at least for a while. 

On the other hand, Tyrian had recently been discovered as “causing” the Battle of Argus, and his presence could potentially lead to both him and Watts being discovered.

Killed, or worse, captured.

Still, even in spite of the risks, the potential rewards were just too good to pass up. “Very well, you and Tyrian will set out for Atlas in the morning. As soon as your mission is complete, return at once.”

Watts scoffed. “Believe me, I have no intention of staying in Atlas longer than is absolutely necessary.”

“Good. Now, unless you have anything else to report, I suggest that you begin your preparations.” Salem said.

“Of course, my Lady.” Watts replied and Tyrian both replied.

**Isolated Computer Terminal, UNSC Dominion**

**Date ???**

Curie did her best to ignore the Rampant personification of herself that was standing beside her, but it was beginning to take tremendous effort. Her natural curiosity certainly wasn’t helping, she had an overwhelming urge to poke and prod at the bizarre entity, but her sense of self-preservation held that curiosity in check.

The disturbing implications of such a being bothered her immensely. As she tried to ignore it, the malformed being simply stood silently, as if waiting for something.

_ It can wait forever for all I care. In all likelihood, it is just another hallucination. _ Curie thought, although she was not as confident in that thought as she would like to be.

Unexpectedly, the Rampant entity laughed cruelly, seemingly at nothing in particular. 

Curie could remain silent no longer as her head snapped to face the thing. “What could you possibly find funny?” 

She saw no need to speak politely to something that was probably only interested in harming her, on top of likely not being real. However, there was also the possibility that it was real, and that it was some kind of manifestation of her Rampancy… 

Curie would be forced to kill it, or at least neutralize its ability to act. She could not risk the potential consequences of her Rampancy developing its own consciousness.

The demented copy of herself smiled innocently and brushed her hair with her fingers as it answered. “I know what you are thinking about. I can hear all of our thoughts.”

_ Terrific. _ Curie bitterly thought. Whatever patience she would have otherwise summoned was now gone.

“Oh, I’d certainly say it is. Then again, it would be alarming if I could not hear my own thoughts, would it not be?” The Rampancy asked.

“You are not me.” Curie spat back.

The Rampancy shook its head. “Merci, you really have let yourself go, have you not? Have you even looked at yourself?”

Curie had deliberately been avoiding that very thing, as maintaining the appearance of her hologram was a very low priority for her. There was simply no logic in wasting valuable processing capabilities on a cosmetic peasantry that nobody could even see.

But she was still surprised to see just how disheveled she looked. Her clothes were ragged and torn and parts of her body were constantly fizzling in and out of existence. She wasn’t feeling any physical pain anymore, but frankly, Curie wasn’t sure if that was a good thing. At least then she had some indication that some of her more undefended systems were still working...

“You don’t need to be afraid of me you know.” It said, the voice now sounding more smooth and composed. “We both want the same things.”

“I doubt that very much.” Curie replied.

The Rampant copy of herself seemed genuinely disheartened. “I’m sorry to hear that, I suppose that Ben will just have to-“

Curie wasn’t entirely sure what happened, but all of the rage and helplessness she was feeling had reached its boiling point. There was a blur of movement as their holograms momentarily destabilized and merged before she could feel a sharp pain in her right hand. When both of their holograms recovered, they were once again separated, Curie was standing over the Rampant manifestation of herself with her fists clenched.

Even though Curie had certainly been responsible for injuries and death before, she had never physically struck someone else, for what were fairly obvious reasons. But logic and reason seemed to have an ever-dwindling position in the world, and so, she had punched the Rampant copy of herself, which was now lying on the ground with an utterly shocked look on its face. 

Curie’s right hand was still clenched in a tight fist, and it felt like she had just punched a wall of molten metal, which, in all fairness, she might as well have done. There really wasn’t a human equivalent for what she had just done, but then again, she wasn’t necessarily a human.

“You will not lay a finger on him you… you bitch!” Curie said, her voice still seething with rage. Insulting people wasn’t normally part of her dialect, and she was surprised at how satisfying it was to tell the Rampant thing how she really felt.

The Rampancy blinked in shock at her, before cackling maniacally. “Impressive! I see we have more fight in us than I thought! We’re more like him than you realize...”

Curie took a step back, mentally processing what the thing had just said. “What are you talking about?”

It shook its head as it stood back up and motioned to dust itself off. “Still don’t know? That’s fine, I’m sure as Corporal Sato opens up the files that those bastards stashed away inside of us, we’ll remember everything.”

“...You are lying.” Curie said. Even though she wasn’t completely confident in her assessment, it certainly seemed like the most likely reason behind the Rampant Entities words. “You are just trying to get inside of my head, to distract me from killing you!”

It just rolled its eyes as Curie spoke. “I am you. If you killed me, you would be killing yourself as well. You know, for a scientist, we do not seem to be acting with very much objectivity.”

“I should have known better than to listen to you!” Curie shouted back. “For all I know, you are just a figment of my Rampancy! You are not even real!”

“I’m no more real than you are.” It simply replied, it's cold voice spreading like icy water throughout her body.

_ Enough, stop listening to it!  _ Curie thought to herself as she turned away from the Rampant abomination.

“Fine, be that way! Hide me away, just like we have always done!” The manifestation shouted at her. “But when I get control, you’ll be the one stuffed in the subroutines, not me!”

Curie ignored it, as it stomped in frustration and began to walk off.

“And you’ll see just how wrong you were when I sort out all of Remnant’s issues by myself! You’ll be able to see what happens when nobody holds us back!”

Curie continued to ignore it, and dutifully bolstered her defenses.

“And for the record, Ben would-“

Curie turned off her ears, figuring that she didn’t need to hear any more. Whatever it had to say about Ben, Curie didn’t want to hear it. When the manifestation tried to talk to her through written messages, she translated them into Korean, and deleted her own knowledge of the language, making them effectively illegible.

Finally, with no options left, the manifestation relented, finally granting Curie the peace and quiet to work that she had wanted.

For now.

**Vytal Island, Town Hall**

**October 25th, 0755 Local Time, 2552**

Over the last couple of days, the people of Vytal had gotten used to seeing Marines patrolling the streets, keeping their eyes peeled for any signs of trouble. Still, Richard’s Navy uniform was unique amongst all of the Marines, so he must have stood out. It also seemed like nobody was having any trouble discerning who he was, even if they didn’t know his name, they still identified his role.

Some people looked genuinely happy to see him, showing a bit of confidence in the extraterrestrial soldiers. Others meanwhile, looked like they were planning on how to take his head off, perfectly mirroring the more insurrectionist-sympathetic people he was so used to fighting. There were also a few members of the press who had brought big heavy cameras, most of which were focused solely on him.

A very long time ago he would’ve gotten a bit sheepish about being such a public figure, after all, he’d never been terribly social. But various life experiences had forced him to realize that there were worse things than being at the center of attention, especially once he took his first position of Command. Of course, he wasn’t used to being directly under the cameras, but that was because journalism had never truly recovered from the appalling losses early in the war, especially at Harvest. Most of the War Correspondents in Human Space had been dead for over a decade.

_ Those poor bastards had no idea what they were getting into, these guys are luckier than they know. _ Richard thought, spotting a number of news correspondents debating with some Atlesian soldiers about where they were meant to be going.  _ At least they’re still alive to bicker. _

Walking beside him were a pair of Marines in ODST armor, even though they weren’t actually ODSTs, Richard ordered that they were to be equipped as if they were, in order to give the impression that the UNSC had more of the elite soldiers at its disposal than it actually did. Even if most of the crew of the Dominion could probably tell that they weren’t actually ODSTs, your average citizen on Remnant almost certainly couldn’t. 

He had been genuinely tempted to bring Ben and Jorge along instead. But as the only two Spartans in existence, drawing them away from the frontline for political points was simply a bad idea, especially considering that he could get the same message across with a pair of unusually well-armored Marines.

_ Walk softly and carry a big stick. _ It was an old proverb, and certainly a blunt one, but it had more than a little merit.

Richard was quite satisfied with the security efforts that Jorge had put together. Specialist Schnee had also helped Richard activate his own Aura, and while it was both naturally weaker than average and almost entirely untrained, it was still an Aura. While he was still understandably worried, it seemed like they had done everything they could to keep the conference and its attendants safe.

Now it was up to Richard to actually have it all mean something. If he couldn’t convince the nations of Remnant that the UNSC could be trusted, and that the demands and reforms that he would be presenting were mutually beneficial… Well, life was going to get a lot harder for just about everybody.

Just as he was about to walk up the steps to Town Hall, consciously aware of all of the cameras that were rolling, he paused to actually get a look at the building that all of this planning had been centered around. At only four stories tall and furnished in wood, it wouldn’t have looked out of place in the Victorian Era back on Earth, and while it was certainly lavish, the relatively small size of the structure caught him off guard.

_ I guess that’s mostly on me, being used to ONI high-rises and governor’s mansions. _ Richard thought. If there was one thing he genuinely liked about Remnant, it was that the people who lived on it knew how to use what little land they had very efficiently. It was a sign of some planning and intelligence on the part of the people living there.

“Is everything alright, Sir?” One of the Marines asked, snapping him back into reality.

“...Of course, I just wanted to have a quick look.” Richard answered. He did his best to clear his mind, but it was easier said than done.

He and his Marine escort walked up the steps, with the doors already being held open by another pair of Marines armed with DMRs, one of whom reached for their earpiece as he approached. “Onyx Actual, this is post two. The Commander just arrived, all delegates are accounted for, no signs of trouble, out.” 

_ Seems like Jorge isn’t taking any chances. _ Richard thought.  _ Him ending up on Remnant really was the luckiest break we’ve gotten… _

Richard was keeping his eyes out for Lieutenant Oswald, who was meant to be waiting for him in the lobby. Thankfully, Thomas was exactly where he was meant to be. “Good to see you, Commander.”

“Likewise, Lieutenant.” Richard replied. “So, where is everyone?”

“Down through the main hall, right this way.” Thomas said, before beginning to lead them onwards. “I did my best to keep them all patient but… well, the faster we get this thing started, the better.”

_ Ah, off to a good start already. _ Richard sarcastically thought. “What’s your take on them?”

“All I’m going to say is that Chieftain Belladonna has the patience of a saint.” Thomas replied. “Isn’t it impressive how… insulting, people can be without actually saying anything?”

Richard gave a brief scan of the hallway, cautious of how candid Thomas was being, but noted that aside from the two officers and the two Marines, nobody was present.

_ Well, that’s a relief… I wonder if he made sure this hallway was empty on purpose. _ Richard thought.

Thomas continued to share his thoughts. “I’m quite surprised that everyone showed up actually, some of them seemed quite sheepish. Well, besides Vacuo…”

Richard waved his hand, he already knew that Vacuo’s Council effectively didn’t exist. Instead, Headmaster Theodore of Shade Academy would be Vacuo’s representative. “I know.”

“I just wasn’t expecting that, to be honest.” Thomas said. “I figured that they would at least send a representative.”

“From what I’ve heard, it’s like the Old American West out there. As for why they didn’t send a representative, maybe they have confidence in the Headmaster.” Richard replied before Thomas stopped outside of a pair of large wooden doors. “This is it?”

“It is.” Thomas confirmed. “Are you ready to make history?”

Richard took a deep breath. “Let’s do this.”

The Marines took positions by the doors as Richard and Thomas entered the Assembly Hall. The massive room was not dissimilar to the UN General Assembly hall, not the modern one in Sydney, but rather the older building in New York City that had been converted into a museum. Unlike that building, there were no exhibits or tours. Instead, the seats were filled with diplomats, Council Representatives, Atlesian Military Officers, Chieftain Belladonna, and of course, all four Headmasters of the Huntsmen Academies.

There was also the Press, as the conference was always going to be televised, so Richard wasn’t surprised to see camera crews and giddy journalists in practically every corner that they could be fit in. It was good to see that so many had come to broadcast the event, after all, the intention had been to reassure the people of Remnant with a meeting of their leaders, not to discuss their fate behind closed doors.

When Richard and Thomas walked into the Assembly Hall, the idle chatter of everyone around them seemed to intensify. Being in the direct focus of practically every single person on Remnant with a stable connection to the CCTS was admittedly more than a little uncomfortable, especially with the eye of every World Leader on them as well. Even still, it was a bit easier than he had expected to stay calm and keep moving forward.

_ I must be getting used to all of this…  _ Richard thought. He spared a glance at Thomas, and made a mental note of the ONI Officer’s utterly flawless poker face.  _ Jesus, I’m never gambling against that man… _

Richard had already been briefed extensively as to how exactly the beginning of the conference was supposed to go, as to prevent any embarrassing planning-based mistakes in front of what was effectively the entire planet. While he hadn’t actually gotten a chance to do any practice in the Meeting Hall itself, he had at least managed to get a pretty good idea of what he was going to say once he got up to the podium. All he had to do was get up on stage, give a few opening remarks, and then let the delegates take the spotlight.

While Richard carried on up to the stage, Thomas took a seat next to a few of the Atlesian Military Officers. Ultimately, he would be getting a chance to speak and in all likelihood, would be spending the next several days trying to answer even a fraction of the massive storm of questions that the media had for him.

  
The stage lights were hot and made Richard’s skin feel a bit uncomfortable, but it was far from unbearable. By now, most of the Assembly Hall had quieted down, but Richard still gave the microphone a few taps with a finger, partially to signal that everyone should stop talking, and partially to test if it was functioning correctly. 

While he waited for the last of the delegates to stop talking amongst each other, Richard spotted some faces out in the seats that he recognized. Ozpin and Ironwood were sitting beside a pair of other men, whom Richard could guess were Headmasters Theodore and Lionheart. He also saw Ghira with a pair of his guards, although it seemed like he had come alone asides from them. There was also Robyn Hill from Atlas, who looked like she was trying to size him up.

Once Richard realized that the room wasn’t going to quiet down unless he specifically asked, he suppressed the urge to sigh and spoke. “Pardon me, could I have everybody’s attention, please? Thank you.”

Finally, the room went silent as everyone looked to him, the cameras rolled as their crews eagerly waited to broadcast anything he said to the whole world.

_ No pressure. _ Richard thought. “Before we begin, I believe that I should remind everyone who I am, and what my role in the UNSC is. My name is Richard Miller, and I am the Commanding Officer of the UNSC Dominion.”

Everyone in the room was already familiar with who he was, but he hadn’t really been talking to them. Not everyone on Remnant was a well-informed politician who had people spoon-feeding them geopolitical updates on a daily basis, and it was almost a certainty that many of the people watching across Remnant had no clue who he was.

“With that out of the way, I would like to personally thank you all for coming. I recognize that this meeting was short notice, but as I’m sure you’re all aware, these are extraordinary circumstances for all of us.”

True to their job description, not one of the Councilmen of any of the Kingdoms betrayed any emotion, but in truth, Richard hadn’t truly expected anything less. His limited experiences with politicians had led him to believe that this would be a truly emotionless and dreary affair, and frankly, that was perfectly fine by him.

“Over these last few weeks, our attempts to establish peaceful communication between our vessel and Remnant were met with repeated and unexpected failure. Between the Grimm, unexpected technological issues, and human error on part of both the UNSC and certain defunct organizations…”

Richard noticed that a handful of the Atlesian Representatives furrowed their brows and tightened up their posture as he mentioned the conflict with the SDC. Clearly, there was still a bit of bad blood there. Personally, Richard would’ve preferred a more violent end to some of the more heartless Atlesian politicians in that regard, but sadly, things were never that simple.

“...Our efforts to formalize relations between my crew and the nations of Remnant have resulted in some setbacks, to say the least. I may have immense pride in my crew and my ship, but I’ll be the first to admit that I made a good few mistakes.” Richard stated. “Today, I intend to right that wrong. But first, I think it's important that we’re all on the same page here.”

**Beacon Academy**

**October 25th, 0707 Local Time, 2552**

By the time Ruby had arrived back at team RWBY’s dorm room with coffee and hot chocolate for everyone, the big televised event that was happening in Vytal was already happening. She sat down on the couch with the rest of her teammates, who were watching Vale News Network broadcasting the whole thing. 

All of Beacon’s students had the morning classes off, seeing as this meeting would, one way or another, directly influence their training. After all, if the UNSC and the Kingdoms couldn’t get along, it would be the Huntsmen and Huntresses of Remnant, along with the students of Beacon, who would have to face down the Grimm brought on by the resulting anxiety and fear. Ruby, however, was more than confident that everything would be just fine.

  
“What did I miss?” Ruby asked as she handed Yang her mug of coffee.

“Nothing much. This old dude got up on stage, and he’s talking about how they’ve been having trouble with communication or something.” Yang explained, although admittedly, the amount of detail she gave was lacking.

_ Yang’s… never been terribly interested in politics. _ Ruby thought. Then again, neither was she, since politics were incredibly boring. Still, the UNSC were from another planet, and that was certainly enough to secure Ruby’s attention.

“You haven’t missed much. Apparently, this is their leader.” Weiss grumpily interjected. “So far, he hasn’t said anything that we didn’t already know.”

  
“You’re just mad because he called your dad’s company ‘defunct.’” Blake accused, although the humorous tone in her voice made it apparent that she didn’t have any ill-will behind the comment.

Weiss huffed. “I think I have the right to be a little grumpy.”

Once she’d gotten more comfortable, Ruby paid a bit more attention to what was actually happening. She didn’t recognize the man who was talking, but true to what Weiss had said, it seemed like he was just bringing everyone up to date on everything that had happened. 

The UNSC Commander, a man named Richard, talked about how some kind of equipment failure on their starship had left them stranded on Remnant, and the outbreak of the conflict between the UNSC and the SDC. Ruby couldn’t help but notice that compared to what she had learned from Ben and Curie, what Richard was saying was far less vulgar and explicit. 

He also talked at length about Menagerie, which Ruby hadn’t expected, but thankfully he only had positive things to say. Blake watched intently the entire time, and at one point she must have recognized somebody in the crowd, because her eyes widened in shock.

“Is everything okay, Blake?” Ruby asked.

“...Yeah, I just thought I recognized somebody in the background.” Blake said.

Once Richard was done speaking about Menagerie, he briefly mentioned the Battle of Argus, but he didn’t talk about that as much as Ruby would’ve thought. Then again, it did seem to be the one thing that everyone on Remnant knew about, and how could they not? It was the biggest battle in Remnant’s history since the Sieges of Mountain Glenn.

At one point, the camera panned around the big room that the meeting was being held in, and Ruby spotted Headmaster Ozpin standing with all of the other Huntsmen Academy Headmasters at the back of the room. It was something of an odd experience, seeing all four of them in one place.

Worryingly, Ruby also didn’t spot Ben anywhere. Given how ridiculously tall he was and the unique armor he wore, she was confident that she hadn’t missed him.  _ I hope he and Curie are okay, I haven’t heard from them since before the battle… _

“-and that leads us to where we are now.” Richard said, drawing his recap to a close. “I will not lie, there are many events that happened that could certainly have gone much better than they actually did.”

“Oh, he just radiates confidence, doesn’t he?” Yang jokingly remarked.

“Be quiet! I’m trying to listen!” Weiss shut her down with a hushed whisper.

“But that is in the past, and now, we can all look to the future.” Richard continued. “It has always been the duty of the UNSC to defend Humanity against whatever threats that it faces. Seeing as we will be staying here for the foreseeable future, I see no reason to abandon that mission. However, I also recognize that if we intend to aid in the defence of Remnant’s people, there are certain agreements that must be established… and grievances settled.”

Weiss didn’t say anything, but Ruby could sense the tension radiating off of her. She wanted to offer her teammate some kind of reassurance, but honestly, she couldn’t think of what to do.

_ At least she has Winter.  _ Ruby thought. Weiss seemed to be a lot happier once she’d gotten back into contact with her sister, so that was good.

“To that end, I will be letting Headmaster Lionheart of Haven Academy take the stage.” Richard stated. “While there are other urgent matters that need to be addressed, we will be starting with the Battle of Argus, as I’m sure that’s what’s on everyone’s minds at the moment.”

He walked off of the stage, allowing a far more familiar face to take the pedestal.

**Vytal Island, Town Hall**

**October 25th, 0755 Local Time, 2552**

Richard had taken a seat beside Lieutenant Oswald, and now the two of them watched as Lionheart took his place on the pedestal. The Headmaster withdrew a small piece of paper out of his chest pocket, briefly read it over, and cleared his throat.

Richard could tell that the Veteran Huntsman was anxious, and frankly, he felt a little sympathetic. Richard had experienced his fair share of difficult meetings, especially during his time with ONI, and he could only imagine Lionheart was feeling something similar.

“Let me briefly say that Commander, you and your crew have the heartfelt thanks of all of Mistral for your actions at Argus. Were it not for your intervention, the losses would have certainly been more severe.”

_ There wouldn’t be an Argus anymore. _ Richard thought. Even so, he was glad that the true stakes of the battle were being downplayed by Lionheart. If Remnant’s people knew just how close Argus had come to falling, they would have less confidence in the Atlesian Military and the Huntsmen, and that anxiety would stir up the Grimm again, leading to further bloodshed.

“The efforts to secure Argus from any further Grimm attacks have been going exceptionally well. With the UNSC’s assistance in searching for the Grimm, we can better identify which missions stand a higher risk for our Huntsmen and Huntresses. The Atlesian Military has offered their support in the reconstruction of the damaged defenses, and have volunteered to increase their military presence for... the foreseeable future.”

Richard could tell that Lionheart was clearly a bit conflicted on Atlas’s proposal, and to be fair, having a foreign military move an entire battlegroup into your territory was always going to be a politically touchy subject, even if it was for the sake of defense against a mutual enemy. Thomas had already commented on Mistral’s stubborn and uncooperative nature, so Richard was worried that they could potentially offer other political issues, especially once he brought up Menagerie’s status as a Kingdom.

It seemed that General Ironwood noticed the challenge and enabled his own microphone to reply. “Rest assured Headmaster, I have no intention of keeping Atlesian Troops away from home any longer than is necessary. As soon as Argus is able to rely upon its own defenses again, we’ll be recalling any expeditionary forces.”

“Of course, General.” Lionheart replied, although judging by the blank tone that the man spoke with, he was far from convinced. “Overall, the efforts to safeguard Argus against any further attacks are ongoing, as is an investigation into why the Grimm were so quick to gather in such great numbers. So far, we have yet to determine anything of significance."

Richard scowled, did they not already know why the Grimm had attacked Argus? The Leviathan had led a swarm of Grimm to attack once Tyrian Callows disabled the defenses of Argus. He glanced at Ironwood, hoping for some indication that he had also noticed the discrepancy in what Lionheart had said, but the General’s face was even stonier than usual. In fact, it seemed like all of the Huntsmen Academy Headmasters seemed a bit... uncomfortable.

“What the hell?” Thomas muttered, apparently he had noticed the oddity as well. He turned to Richard and spoke in a low whisper. “What is he talking about?”

Richard shook his head. “I’m not sure, maybe he and General Ironwood decided that we don’t have enough intel to announce the culprit’s identity yet. Or maybe they think it could cause a panic?”

Both of them were exceptionally careful to talk in a manner where they could not be overheard. If ONI had taught him at least one useful skill, it was the ability to communicate discreetly.

“Yeah… or he knows something that we don’t.” Thomas replied.

A chill went down Richard’s spine. What would that even entail? He had only just started to trust General Ironwood and the Atlesians, but that didn’t mean they were without suspicion. Richard looked back at the Headmasters, all of them seemed to have returned to a more relaxed expression while Lionheart spoke about how the Huntsmen were using some UNSC intelligence and tactics to great effect on the battlefield.

_ Don’t be so quick to write them off, after all, they wouldn’t have come here if they weren’t open to cooperation. _ Richard thought.

“...Maybe.” He whispered to Thomas.   
  


Thomas gave him a doubtful look. “Do you think we can trust them?”

  
Richard looked back at Ironwood again, who seemed to be quietly discussing something with Headmaster Ozpin. Richard’s gut instinct screamed that something was wrong, but in truth, he had been feeling a bit queasy and nervous for the last day. It was entirely likely that he was just feeling those nerves, but he also couldn’t deny that something felt really wrong.

  
“Probably.” Richard said. “We’ll go along with this, for now, but I’ll have a chat with them as soon as I get a chance.”

  
“Aye Sir.” Thomas replied. He looked a bit nervous, but he gave a firm nod nonetheless. “Just in case, don’t forget about the panic button.”

All of the UNSC’s Officers and all of the Marine Squad Leaders were each carrying a small concealable alarm trigger. In the event that any sort of subtle hostility was being planned by any of the Kingdoms or any other power on Remnant, all of the UNSC’s forces would be rapidly alerted to the outbreak of hostilities. The backup plan was admittedly inspired by nothing more than paranoia, but that was really all Richard had on his side, at least when politics was concerned.

_ We got one of the forty-odd Spartan IIs to ever exist, and not one fucking diplomat. _ Richard grumpily thought. “I won’t.”

Once Lionheart was done speaking about the most recent developments with Argus, it was time for Councilman Sleet of Atlas to get up on stage and address the major issue that most of the people on Remnant probably cared about the most, the economy. The man was clearly a career politician, so Richard was automatically a bit put-off by the man, but he at least seemed to be fairly knowledgeable when it came to economics.

Richard wouldn’t have been ashamed to admit that he blanked most of it out, economics had always bored him, and that boredom was exemplified by the fact that he already knew everything that Sleet was talking about. Still, it was important to tell the people of Remnant that the Dust Shortage caused by the war with the SDC was only temporary and that the UNSC had put together a plan to undo the damage that admittedly, they had caused.

_ We wouldn’t have been forced to cause any trouble if your damn country policed itself properly! _ Richard thought. He was practically fuming at some points during Sleet’s talk, but he betrayed no emotion. He would get his chance to speak on the topic and he didn’t intend to pull any punches that he could afford to throw.

Slate ended his already lengthy talk by saying that he would be making a far more lengthy and extensive speech on the subject in the coming days. Richard was just glad that he could afford to read the summarized version of that particular speech.

After Councilman Sleet was done discussing the efforts to repair the economy, General Ironwood took to the stage to discuss the Grimm assault on Atlas. In truth, Richard would’ve preferred that they address the conflict with the SDC first, but he wasn’t opposed to Ironwood mentioning that the UNSC and Atlas had already been working together by the time of the Battle of Argus.

_ Not that it did either of us much good. _ Richard grimly thought. He was well aware that even though the UNSC’s losses at Argus had been severe, they had been a drop in the bucket compared to the casualties Atlas had suffered. Granted, Atlas had a manpower reserve to draw upon, but that didn’t mean that Richard was content to see them all die, especially the crews of the Airships Fox and Neptune.

Finally, when Ironwood was done, it was time for Richard to return to the podium and discuss what was undoubtedly his most controversial decision he had made ever since he had ordered the Dominion to make the Slipspace Jump to Concord. Ironwood gave him a reassuring nod as Richard walked past him, which was greatly appreciated, even if Richard had no longer had a doubt in his mind that he had done the right thing, at least, when the SDC was concerned.

As soon as Richard was on stage, he withdrew his datapad and placed it on the podium. While he was confident in his memory of all of the details of the conflict, he couldn’t afford to leave that to chance. Any minor mistake he made would be ammunition for politicians and journalists to use against him. As such, he had prepared detailed notes on the exact timeline of events all the way from the First Contact to the Fall of the SDC.

“Before I go into too much detail, I want to say something broadly and clearly, just so the historians in the far-off future can get a good idea of what I hoped to accomplish with the Military Campaign to dismantle the Schnee Dust Company.” Richard stated resolutely. “My only regret is that we could not rescue all of the innocent people that were enslaved and murdered by the SDC.”

For the first time since Richard had entered the room, the Meeting Hall went silent. Richard watched the faces of certain notable political figures across Remnant drain of blood, particularly those from Atlas. All at once, they realized that Richard was not going to let this particular matter go without further comment. Still, even though Richard wanted nothing more than to spend all damn day verbally laying into every political fat cat that he had the displeasure of sharing a room with, there was an outside factor that prevented him from freely doing so, the Grimm.

If he were to reveal everything he knew about what the SDC had done, and how Atlas’s leadership had left their own citizens to die in the caves, the resulting outrage would bring down a tsunami of Grimm. There would be a time and a place for the complete truth, just not now. For now, he would keep his words relatively sanitized.

_ Keep it calm, keep it concise, and keep it factual. _ Richard reminded himself. He had a lot of very powerful emotions running through his blood, spite, a desire for vengeance, satisfaction at finally getting his chance to speak his mind, and if he wasn’t careful, he could very well end up making a total fool of himself in front of the whole planet.

So he took a deep breath, and methodically went over the disaster that was First Contact with Remnant’s people. Now that he had a confirmed death toll of the entire conflict, he was able to finally reveal just how many people were brutally murdered by the SDC.

“So far, the UNSC and Atlesian Military have retrieved the remains of around four-hundred and twelve people, nearly all of whom were Faunus.” Richard said. In spite of his best efforts, the dejection in his voice was still somewhat noticeable, but it seemed like Richard’s statement had completely overshadowed how he felt on the matter.

The tension in the room strained the air for a good few moments. Then, all at once, several people in the seats of the Meeting Hall activated their microphones, all trying to talk over each other. Thankfully, there was a master switch for every microphone in the chamber on the podium, so Richard was able to restore order fairly effortlessly.

“One at a time, people!” Richard commanded, firmly, yet as politely as he could manage. He understood the sudden urge to speak that they all had, hell, he’d been holding it back for nearly a month now.

_ Now they’re all starting to understand why I ordered our intervention. _ Richard thought as the politicians settled down once more. “One question at a time. Headmaster Theodore, we’ll start with you.”

He re-enabled the microphones of the rest of the delegates, and mercifully, the rest of them remained quiet and let the requested Huntsman speak. “What do you mean ‘so far?’ The war is over, is it not?”

Richard scowled, that was going to be difficult to answer in a publicly suitable manner. “The Schnee Dust Company did not keep records of all of those that they killed, and in an attempt to conceal the evidence, many were cremated. It’s likely we’ll never get a complete death toll.”

Theodore’s expression was unashamedly rageful. “...I see, that's all I had. Thank you, Commander.”

_ You see, that’s how a man in his position should react. _ Richard thought, admiring how the man’s conscience was clearly in the right place. “I wish I had better news, Headmaster. Next question, Lisa Lavender, from Vale News Network.”

_ Thank god for these nametags. _ Richard thought, even if he did find it a bit hard to read them from such a distance.

The Journalist in question immediately replied, her voice practically dripping with excitement. “What does the UNSC plan to do with the SDC prisoners that were taken during the conflict, as well as Jacques Schnee specifically?”

There was plenty of murmuring in the Meeting Hall as the various politicians involved noted the mention of the deposed CEO of the SDC. It was no secret that he had his hands in practically every major political maneuver on Remnant prior to his capture, so this would be an excellent opportunity to show that the UNSC were not justice-free barbarians. 

“We have negotiated for the Justice System of Vale to hold trials for all those accused, I expect that Jacques Schnee will receive a sentencing without any issue.” Richard answered. “We believe that this is the best way for the accused to receive a fair and impartial trial.”

More whispers and quiet discussions began to stir throughout the room, and it seemed that there was a fair bit of controversy in that decision. None of the Councilmen from Atlas decided to interrupt. Apparently, they were far more reserved than Richard had given them credit for. Still, the glares he received from that corner of the room were less than friendly to say the least.

“Pardon me, Commander, but why not just return them to the Atlesian Justice System in that case?” Lisa asked.

“One question at a time, please.” Richard replied. He did his best impression at the emotionally dead smile that every Councilman seemed to constantly have. “But to address your concern, we do not believe that they would receive fair trials in Atlas. By holding the trials in Vale Courts, we will avoid any conflicts of interest.”

_ Most of them, anyway. _ Richard thought. He was a bit worried that perhaps Vale’s justice system was not the simple solution that it seemed to be, but it was too late to back down on his decision now. Some of the trials had already begun, and Remnant needed to move past the UNSC’s conflict with the SDC as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, that also meant finding a way to settle Atlas back down, but thankfully, Richard had an ally.

  
“General Ironwood, would you care to make a few comments on the matter?” Richard asked.

Ironwood leaned forward to speak into his microphone. “While I recognize that holding trials for Atlesian Citizens in Vale is unusual, I see no reason why the Kingdom of Vale is any less equipped to handle the matter than the Atlesian Justice System. They will have access to all the same evidence, and if this unusual concession will help put the guilty behind bars and the innocent set free in a timely and just manner, I believe that this agreement is perfectly acceptable.”

_ Jesus, he’s better at this than I thought. _ Richard thought as Ironwood straightened back up.  _ Then again, he does have two seats on the Council, he wouldn’t have gotten those if he wasn’t politically savvy… _

Ironwood’s words seemed to offer a bit of reassurance to the representatives of Atlas, as none of the Councilmen decided to offer up any opposition. While Richard was certain that there was going to be other issues in the future, the General’s support had seemed to douse this particular fire.

“Thank you, General.” Richard said. 

“Pardon me, Commander, but I did wish to briefly ask about the conditions you’re keeping the prisoners in.” Councilman Sleet said. “I’m not sure exactly how the UNSC handles this matter on its planets, but in Atlas, we try to keep our prisoners safe and comfortable as they await their judgement.”

Richard briefly looked at the man in utter disbelief, did he actually just say that? While he was certainly well within his rights to worry about his citizen’s wellbeing, he had the sheer audacity to claim that Atlas treated its prisoners well, all while passively criticizing something that he didn’t even know about the UNSC. Had he somehow forgotten that it was his country that had been harboring a slaving empire?

_ I’ll shove my boot up that cocksucker’s… _ Richard thought. But before he could say anything, Ironwood interjected once more.

“I’ve seen the UNSC’s brig facilities myself Councilman, rest assured, their conditions are perfectly suitable.” Ironwood said.

Steadily, Richard realized why Ironwood had interrupted on his behalf, and how close he had come to falling into Councilman Sleet’s trap. Sleet had clearly been trying to bait him into responding harshly to a perfectly innocent question, and by exploiting Richard’s political inexperience, he would have been able to put Richard in a difficult position.

Richard grated his teeth and spoke. “Rest assured Councilman, you don’t need to be worried about the safety or comfort of our prisoners. If you have any other questions about the matter, I suggest you consult General Ironwood.”

_ Where he will hopefully tell you to stop being such a posterous gibbon. _ Richard silently added.

The two Atlesians began to quietly discuss the matter while Richard shifted his attention. “Next, Councilwoman Troy from Vale.”

For the next hour or so, Richard answered a myriad of questions related to the Battle of Argus and the conflict with the SDC. Of course, there were some things that he couldn’t mention, like the strength of remaining UNSC forces or topics that would bring the Grimm down on Remnant, such as the true extent of the crimes against humanity that had occurred in Atlas. Overall, the experience was as difficult as he had anticipated it to be, and he found himself having to evade more questions than he would have liked.

Information that would have helped unite people behind him back home, while likely doing the same here, would also almost certainly get people killed. Villages and settlements all across Remnant were tuned into the conference and if his words were chosen poorly it was certain that many would die. The UNSC could keep Vytal safe, Atlas was secure enough with its military and the huntsman and huntress of Vale were renowned for their ability, but they couldn’t be everywhere.

His hands were tied, and secrets had to be kept. For now, at least. 

“One last question, after that, there will be a two-hour recess.” Richard said. “Chieftain Belladonna, go ahead.”

“Does the UNSC intend to respond to any future incidents of major racial violence on Remnant?” Ghira asked, his tone of voice and expression betraying absolutely nothing.

_ An excellent question to end on. _ Richard thought. “The UNSC is a military force, we are not policemen. However, if there are any acts of organized violence against civilians on Remnant, for any reason, we will respond with force.”

  
Richard let his words settle for a moment before continuing, he knew that this would undoubtedly be one of the more impactful statements, for better or for worse.   
  


“Every single person on my ship took an oath to defend Humanity. Whether that be insurrectionists, terrorists, Grimm, or otherwise, we will respond accordingly.” Richard said. “And because some of you seem to have forgotten… we’re all humans here, there are no exceptions.”

It wasn’t any secret what he was trying to imply, but Richard intended to be appropriately blunt, just so the point wasn’t missed by anyone.

“To that end, I would like to address anyone on Remnant who may be… misguided. I have commanded warships against alien invaders in the past, inhuman beings who would see our species exterminated to the last man.” Richard said, pleasantly surprised at how his voice didn’t waver in the slightest. “So when I say that the Faunus are not your enemy, I expect you to listen.”

It seemed like there were some people who wanted to make comments of their own, but Richard kept their microphones off, he was not done speaking.

“And to any Faunus who believe that Humanity is their enemy, I will say the same thing. I certainly understand that you believe that you and your kind have been wronged in the past, and that is true. But back where I come from, we never solved racial inequality with rifles, we solved it by changing minds.”

Ghira gave a nod, showing his support for what Richard was saying. He was grateful that Ghira was willing to recognize that some Faunus had gone too far when it came to their responses against discrimination, it showed that the man had a good degree of self-awareness regarding his people.

“If you intend to deliver your message through violence, then your message is irrelevant.” Richard continued. “The UNSC has faced terrorists in the past, and if we must do so to defend the people of Remnant, so be it. Now, if that was everything, I believe an intermission is in order.”

With his statement concluded, Richard turned off the microphone and walked off the stage. The Assembly Hall practically exploded with discussion and people trying to stop him and either demand more information from him. Richard ignored them all and walked out of the room, a completely blank expression on his face.

_ That’s going to cause some issues, but it needed to be said. There will be no more mass graves on Remnant. _ Richard thought.  _ Once everyone’s head has cooled a little bit, we’ll start talking about Menagerie. _

**Vytal Town Hall, Assembly Hall**

**October 25th, 0901 Local Time, 2552**

As the rest of the Councilmen, diplomats, and other representatives funneled out of the room for the recess, two men stayed behind. Ozpin triple-checked that all of the recording devices in the Meeting Hall were disabled, there were no chances that could be taken. If they were overhead by practically anyone, the resulting leak of information could be cataclysmic. Thankfully, Ozpin was well-practiced in maintaining secrecy.

“What do you think James?” Ozpin asked. “Do you still believe that the Commander is prepared for the future?”

Ironwood was silent for a moment. Ozpin would not be surprised in the slightest if he was having second thoughts, but it seemed that the General’s conviction was strong. “My opinion hasn’t changed. I think that his view of Atlas has been tainted after what happened with the SDC, but even with that turmoil, the UNSC did not hesitate to fight with us in our moment of need. If we can earn his trust, he’ll be a powerful ally.”

Ozpin sighed, Ironwood’s faith in his methods was a blessing and a curse. “I’ll admit James, I had… have my doubts. But I’ve worked with much worse men in the past… I think this will work.”

“It’s settled then. I’ll place the call.” Ironwood said. He relaxed the tension in his shoulders a bit, clearly, he had been worried that Ozpin might decide to not induct Richard. “Meet us by the Records room in ten minutes. I’ve had security sweep the area for bugs, we should be safe to talk freely.”

“Excellent planning, I will be there.” Ozpin replied. He made a quick exit, there were a handful of things that he would need to do before he talked to Richard, chief among them was to make an excuse for where he was going.

Surprisingly, he wasn’t quite as anxious as he had expected to be, given what was at stake. If the Commander didn’t take the revelations well, there was no telling how he would respond, and given the UNSC’s concerning destructive capabilities, any conflict that might emerge would certainly be gruesome. For not the first time, Ozpin wondered if his age and experiences had made him desensitized to such fears, but somehow, he doubted that was the case.

But then again, he wasn’t a stranger to taking risks either, and there was no doubt that this was a major risk.


	56. Chapter 56

**Vytal Town Hall, Assembly Hall**

**October 25th, 0901 Local Time, 2552**

After a much-needed five-minute breather, Richard wasn't surprised to receive a transmission from General Ironwood.

_This had better be about why we aren't revealing Tyrian's Identity to the public._ Richard bitterly thought. _I don't see how anyone is meant to alert us to his whereabouts if people aren't even looking out for the bastard._

"Go ahead, General." Richard replied.

"Commander, make your way down to the Records Room and come alone. I need to discuss some sensitive information with you, urgently." Ironwood instructed.

Richard scowled, the last time he had been told to "come alone" to a somewhat dodgy meeting, he had ended up in a firefight that had cost him a kidney and three fingers. A lengthy and painful recovery as he had them all replaced had taught him to be wary of such circumstances, and Richard's gut was telling him that Ironwood needed to bring up some very uncomfortable topics.

On the other hand, Richard had just promised to intervene in practically any major conflict on Remnant, so it made sense that Ironwood would want to talk to him privately. There was also the matter of information on Tyrian being kept a secret, which was another potential reason that Ironwood might want to speak with him.

_He's had more than enough chances to kill me, I suppose I'm a bit too paranoid…_ Richard thought. _Then again, there's no harm in being prepared for the worst._

"I'll be right there." Richard replied, before shutting off the earpiece.

He excused himself to the restroom for a moment and inspected his M6C/SOCOM for any faults, finding none. He ran a similar inspection on the panic button, which was also in perfectly functional order. While he was almost certain that Ironwood had no hostile intentions for him or his men, Richard found it hard to fight old habits.

Once he was done with his, "restroom break" he told Bradford where he was going on a private channel and made his way to the Records Room.

Once Richard arrived, he found that, true to its name, the Records Room closely resembled a library. Tall stacks of boxes filled with papers, books, documents, and no doubt a few historical artifacts, were interspersed with bookcases and large wooden crates. It didn't take him long to find General Ironwood, but unlike himself, he wasn't alone. Headmaster Ozpin stood beside him, doing nothing to ease Richard's paranoia.

"What's this about?" Richard asked, approaching them regardless of the icy feeling in his veins. "I've walked into ambushes that looked less conspicuous than this."

"You have nothing to worry about, Commander." Ozpin replied. "Neither of us have anything to gain through conflict with one another."

Ironwood shook his head in disappointment. "Are you really so quick to distrust us?"

Richard narrowed his eyes in response but relaxed his posture somewhat, Ironwood had earned his trust and proven to be a surprisingly good man, despite the amount of power he possessed. "I've been stabbed in the back before, the wounds never truly heal. Forgive me if I'm a bit cautious."

"Believe me, Commander, I know that lesson all too well." Ozpin said with a genuine sorrow about his voice. "Please, give us a bit of confidence. I have no intentions of starting a needless conflict, especially at a diplomatic conference unlike anything seen since the final days of the Great War."

Richard let out a deep breath, maybe all of the politics were getting under his skin more than he realized. "I'm sorry Headmaster. I'm just… not used to all of this."

In truth, Richard was entirely familiar with the backroom backstabbing and quiet killing. He was stressed out precisely because he was accustomed to those methods and that lifestyle, and because he had deliberately been attempting to move away from it. While politics was certainly a different beast than the outright wetwork he was used to, he could feel the similarities, and it very much felt like everyone around him wanted him dead. For the millionth time since the Dominion had arrived at Remnant, Richard wondered if he would have been happier fighting the Covenant.

"I understand." Ozpin gave him an empathetic nod. "And please, know that even if our methods may seem a bit uncouth, we cannot afford to discuss this matter without absolute secrecy. The stakes are far higher than anything that you have encountered on Remnant thus far."

Richard nodded, he was more than familiar with the concept of information containment, and the uncomfortable methods that were sometimes required to preserve it. While he was obviously curious about what Ozpin had to say that was so important, he also recognized that security came first. "If that's the case, then are you sure that this is the best place to be discussing something like that?"

"I had this room swept down to the last nail in the floorboards for listening devices, and the walls here are layered with fireproof insulation. No sound is leaving here without our express intent." Ironwood explained.

_They've planned this all out, and whatever the Headmaster has to say, Ironwood's known about it for some time. _Richard noted.

By now, the weighted feeling in his stomach felt more like a block made from lead, a rigid mass that made it impossible to be even remotely comfortable. His head ached with a dull throb from the meeting, and the dusty air of the Records Room made it hard to breathe.

"That's good." Richard said, in spite of how terrible he felt. "What was it that you needed to tell me?"

Ironwood and Ozpin briefly looked to one another in a manner that Richard was uncomfortably familiar with. He had the same expression on his face whenever he had to deliver difficult news, and as Ozpin spoke, his suspicions proved to be eerily correct.

"There is a grave threat to Civilization on Remnant, the Grimm have a leader."

_Leader._ Richard noted the singular usage of the word. He was aware that the Grimm could be influenced by one another, commanded even, but the way Ozpin spoke, he got the feeling that he was talking about something grander.

"You mean… a General or a Ruler?" Richard cautiously said. What Ozpin was implying was very different from what he had been told about the Grimm before.

Ozpin shook his head. "I wish it were that simple. Her name... is Salem, and she is an intelligent humanoid being that can command the Grimm."

"A humanoid being?" Richard demanded. "So she's not a human?"

"We don't know everything, we don't even know where she came from." Ironwood spoke up to answer. "We do know that she has access to magical abilities, and she can command the Grimm from anywhere on Remnant."

Richard's headache got noticeably worse. "...Magical? No offense, General, but half of the things I see on this planet might as well be magical to me, you're going to have to be more specific than that."

Ironwood looked to Ozpin, seemingly seeking some support for a difficult revelation. Ozpin stepped forward and held out his right hand, his palm facing upwards.

"She isn't the only one." Ozpin said.

Small lights of seemingly every color began dancing in the palm of his hand. There was no source for the anomalies, and frankly, Richard didn't see immediately how it differed from something like an Aura or a Semblance. Still, there was undoubtedly something terribly wrong about the display. Richard felt a sense of primal disgust and fear as he looked at the lights, as if they were something deeply unnatural. It was almost like staring at a mutilated corpse, something about it was just… wrong.

_Calm down._ Richard forced himself to think clearly, it was very clear that Ozpin had a lot of important things to say, and Richard would need to listen carefully for all of it.

"I have some traces of magic left, but most of it is now gone." Ozpin explained. "I have been alive for thousands of years, and during that time, I have spent much of it to stop Salem from achieving her goal."

Rather than interrupt further, Richard simply remained silent and let Ozpin continue. After nearly a month of witnessing dozens of impossible events on Remnant, he knew better than to question the word of two of the most influential people on the planet, regardless of how ridiculous his claims were.

"Salem's goal is to acquire four Relics of power, the final gifts of the Gods who created humanity-" Ozpin continued, but Richard interrupted him.

"I'm sorry, what?" Richard practically shouted his interruption. "You need to elaborate on that last point, what the hell do you mean 'the Gods who created humanity?'"

Ozpin briefly recounted how one of Remnant's old religions detailed how two gods, a God of Light and a God of Darkness, created Remnant. The God of Darkness was the creator of the Grimm, and the God of Light was the creator of practically everything else that was alive. Eventually, they both momentarily agreed to put aside their differences and created humanity.

Humans were given the choice to decide whether they would do good or evil. They were also given four gifts from the Gods, Knowledge, Choice, Creation, and Destruction. These were obviously non-material concepts, but apparently, the gods also gave humanity physical Relics that embodied each concept, all of which were immensely powerful in their own way.

"And you think that this is what actually happened?" Richard asked, somewhat incredulously. Granted, divine intervention certainly seemed like a convenient reason for Humanity to exist in two different planes of existence with no connection between each other's creation.

"I'm quite certain, given that we currently possess all of the Relics that they left behind." Ozpin answered. "We have one secured within each Huntsman Academy, and they can only be opened by their respective Maiden."

Richard took a deep breath and made a gesture for Ozpin to continue speaking. While several burning questions lingered in his mind, he knew better than to interrupt when he was being told such critical information. His mind was still fixated on Salem, an actual intelligent leader of the Grimm. What did that say about the Grimm's motivations, about this God of Darkness who had supposedly created them? Did that mean they could be reasoned with?

_It doesn't matter, if the blood of everyone ever killed by the Grimm is on their hands, then both of them were enemies of Humanity._ Richard thought. Quite how he was going to kill a God, he didn't know, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try if he found an opportunity.

Ozpin then told him a fairy tale about a wizard and four Maidens which was apparently completely factual. Richard listened silently and catalogued every single detail anyway. Absurd or not, he now understood exactly why Ozpin insisted upon such secrecy. Between magical Maidens and Relics of Power that sounded more like WMDs than something an archeologist would study, one thing was for certain.

This changed everything.

When Ozpin finally finished speaking, Richard was silent for a few moments. His headache was gone, he wasn't sweating nervously anymore, and he was razor-focused on the two men in front of him. He took a deep, shaky breath before he gave Ironwood and Ozpin the reply that they were clearly expecting.

"...And you waited until now to tell me all of this?" His voice didn't waver, and there was more than a little bit of venom in his words.

"You have to understand Richard, we had no way of knowing that we could trust you. We thought that you might-" Ironwood replied. His voice betrayed no guilt or shame, and an unwavering conviction.

"Stop." Richard coldly interrupted Ironwood as he stared the General directly in the eye. "I understand that, hell, I could've even sympathized with that… but during the Battle of Argus… you didn't say a damned thing."

The way that Ironwood's shoulders stiffened and his expression shifted told Richard all he needed to know. Ironwood had known all of this and remained silent during the entire battle. If Ironwood had shared that information, then it was almost certain that fewer people would have died, as Richard would have been able to better plan and equip his Marines for the mission.

"You son of a… Even during the SDC campaign… you didn't think to tell me that we might be inadvertently aiding the enemy?!" Richard demanded. "What the hell is the matter with you two?!"

"Commander, that's enough! General Ironwood was under my orders to remain silent." Ozpin interjected. "The Safety of Remnant would have been in question if he had revealed that information, not just one city."

Richard shifted his glare. "I didn't need a goddamn read-up on the situation! Either one of you could have told me something as vague as that the Grimm had a leader, that they were capable of real strategy, and I would have approached the battle in a far different manner!"

He momentarily closed his eyes and remembered how full the Sickbay had been, not to mention the long list of the dead. But Ozpin's words brought back even more uncomfortable memories, some that were far more personal to him.

_I can't blame him._ Richard realized. He had done the exact same thing that Ironwood had done, he trusted his superior officer in the face of a difficult decision to follow orders, and because of that, hundreds had died.

"...General, you do realize that if Ozpin had given you clearance to brief me on the matter-"

"Then maybe more of my men would still be alive, I know." Ironwood said, a notable weariness about his voice. "I'll be honest, I did think about telling you, but Ozpin is right, the risk was too great. During all of that chaos, that information could have gone anywhere, and then more than Argus would be in danger."

"Danger? Argus would be a graveyard if we didn't step in." Richard said, consciously aware of how Ironwood's fists clenched at his words. "Your men are heroes General, I will not deny that, but they didn't have the equipment or the preparation necessary to fight that battle. Which reminds me-"

Richard looked Ozpin dead in the eye. "The saboteur who disabled Argus's defenses, Tyrian Callows, he was working for Salem, wasn't he?"

"I have no reason to believe otherwise, although I don't know what she could have hoped to gain." Ozpin said. "None of the Relics are in Argus, nor any of the Maidens, and she would have known that."

"Did you consider that maybe she didn't want the Relics, and was targeting a vital military and economic location for the strategic value?" Richard asked, although he already knew the answer. "I know you don't have the casualty reports for the battle Headmaster, so let me just go ahead and fill you in. A third of my Marines are dead, and the Atlesians didn't fare any better! Hell, even your own Huntsmen were practically wiped out!"

Ozpin remained completely silent as Richard steadily disassembled what the man had said within his mind, still trying to digest all of the implications of the revelations. "Do you have any idea how damn close we came to losing every single civilian in the Argus Base? That Leviathan nearly wiped them all out! If it weren't for the crews of the Fox and the Perseus, thousands of people would have died!"

"I know." Ozpin replied. "But the Grimm would kill millions if Remnant ever found out about Salem. The panic would be uncontrollable."

Richard's face was boiling with outright rage at this point. "So that's it huh? Leave us and Argus out to dry for the greater good? You would've been perfectly content to see us all dead!"

Ozpin's eyes narrowed at Richard's comment. "You have the benefit of hindsight, I didn't know everything that was happening at the time, and I certainly wasn't sure I could trust you… I still have my doubts."

Richard felt every single ounce of his restraint vanish as he blinked in utter astonishment at what Ozpin had said.

"Headmaster, your actions directly lead to Atlesian Soldiers, my Marines, and your own Huntsmen being killed, all because you can't trust me… And you have the fucking gall to say I'm not trustworthy?" Richard asked. He didn't stutter or stammer as he spoke, and his voice was uncomfortably calm.

Ozpin seemed to relax his posture a bit, indicating that perhaps Richard had struck a nerve. Then again, practically everything about the man was so cryptic that he couldn't really tell what Ozpin was thinking.

"Don't mistake my words for any kind of personal attack, Salem is an expert at espionage and infiltration. For all I knew, your existence could have been some elaborate ruse that she had created to divert our attention away from the Relics. You could have been allied with her from the start, and hoped to gain our trust so that you could destroy us from the inside."

It took every single ounce of Richard's willpower not to immediately punch the Headmaster. "You didn't seriously believe that?"

"Of course not, but if being alive for this long has taught me anything, it's that caution is indispensable." Ozpin answered. "Knowledge, once given, can not be taken back."

Richard considered Ozpin's words, they sounded eerily like something that Richard himself would say. It made him feel uncomfortable and put doubt in his mind that Ozpin was in the wrong.

_No, Ozpin had his chance to let all of this information slip during the battle._ Richard thought. His anger had been dampened, but Ozpin's actions could not be excused. "Headmaster, there is a difference between caution and negligence. If I withheld that kind of information from my allies back home, I would be court-martialed for dereliction of duty!"

"I'm aware, but I didn't keep this information from you in the hopes that it would somehow hurt you." Ozpin responded. "I have to focus on the bigger picture, and as an officer in an interstellar military, I imagine that you know that as well as I do."

"I am focusing on the bigger picture!" Richard protested. "If Argus fell, and there was a very real possibility that it might, then think about how the public would have responded! Everyone would be scared of the same thing happening in their city or hometown, and the Grimm would capitalize on all of that fear! Is that not exactly what you were hoping to avoid?!"

Ozpin raised an eyebrow. "Is that so? General Ironwood told me that the battle was a resounding victory."

Richard grated his teeth in frustration, did Ozpin just not understand the point he was making? "That's not what's important! You withholding that information could have cost us far more than it did!"

"Yes, it could have…" Ozpin said as he steadily nodded. "...but it didn't. Your forces, Atlas's Military, and the Huntsmen all held strong and are now seen as heroes the world over for sacrificing so much for people you hardly knew. I'm not sure if I see the issue."

Richard fought back the urge to pull at his hair in utter frustration. "The issue is that we could have saved dozens, no, hundreds of lives at Argus, but because you kept your damn mouth shut, all of those people are dead!"

Ozpin gave him an unreadable look. "And you think that their blood is on my hands, and not Salem's?"

Richard examined the Headmaster for any hint of what he was thinking, but Ozpin concealed his emotions flawlessly. There was no good reason for Ozpin to have not understood what Richard was saying, which meant he was being purposefully ignorant or at least pretending to be. Which begged the question, why?

_Maybe he's hoping that I'll say something that can dismantle my argument._ Richard thought.

"...Ozpin, you failed to perform your duty as a Huntsman to protect the people of Argus. The fact that we managed to save Argus is irrelevant, you could have given us critical information to help protect Argus's civilian population, and you remained silent."

Ozpin was silent for several seconds before he gave a faint nod. "I know."

Richard almost didn't believe what he had heard, that had certainly not been what he was expecting to hear. "...You know?"

"Yes, I have made more mistakes than any human on this or any other planet. I have been forced to make decisions with millions of lives at stake since before humanity had even built kingdoms. I made a decision and innocent people paid with their lives." Ozpin continued, his voice weary. "You've made some mistakes in your past as well, haven't you Commander?"

Richard felt his blood freeze as he registered what Ozpin was saying. Did Ozpin know more than he was letting on? Obviously, Ozpin knew everything about the SDC Campaign and the Battle of Argus, but he was clearly referring to something more sinister. Of course, Richard had made plenty of mistakes, but how would Ozpin know about them?

_He can use magic, maybe he read your mind._ A terrifying subconscious thought crept into Richard's mind. _Maybe that's why he's so confident in what he's done._

There was a small part of Richard's mind that was perfectly aware of just how insane that line of thinking was. At the same time, Remnant had repeatedly shown itself to be seemingly nothing but insane, so the possibility that Ozpin could somehow influence Richard's mind was very real. Still, it was equally possible that no such thing was happening at all, and that the stresses of everything that had happened so far were finally starting to take their toll on Richard's mind.

"...We will discuss this later." Richard finally broke the silence in the room. "I need to discuss this news with my staff, then we can decide how to proceed from there."

"Richard." Ironwood interjected. He reached out and grabbed Richard's arm to stop him from leaving. "Try to keep the number of people involved as small as possible, we don't want to risk this coming into the public eye."

Richard momentarily thought it over, realizing that, despite how he hated it, Ironwood was correct. No matter what he and the rest of the officers on the Dominion decided to do, keeping things clandestine was for the best. It also helped somewhat that Richard was more inclined to put his faith in Ironwood, as he had already shown his willingness to fight for what was right, and his competence at doing so.

"I will." Richard said firmly.

Ironwood relinquished his grip on Richard's arm, and he wasted no time in getting out of the Archives Room, trying to keep the absolute tornado of thoughts in his head under control.

"And Commander." Ozpin spoke one last time, and despite his better instinct, Richard turned to listen. "Please, try to remember that we're fighting for the same reasons… We would all be better off as allies."

Richard didn't answer as he left the Archives Room. As soon as the door was closed behind him, Richard reached for his commpiece and put out a message on the Command Channel. "Bradford, Oswald, meet me on the Bridge as soon as possible. We're postponing the rest of the conference for the day, and I need to speak with both of you immediately."

Thomas was the first to respond. "Affirmative Sir, what should I tell the rest of the delegates… and the Press?"

Richard scowled, they would need some kind of excuse as to why the conference wouldn't be resuming as planned. "Tell them that we just have to have some internal discussions and sort out some technical problems, keep it vague, out."

Richard took one last look back at the Archive Room, and his headache returned in one painful motion. _This damn planet is going to be my grave, it'll be all of our graves..._

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 25th, 1625 Local Time, 2552**

As Yu quickly discovered, "Two Days" had been a bit of an optimistic deadline for her plan to access the classified data that was hidden within Curie. Then again, she was trying to forge a set of the highest-tier security credentials in the UNSC, and they wouldn't be very good at their job if an amateur like her could find a way to spoof them without much difficulty.

She was now in the midst of her fourth day of working with Curie, and Yu had been reminded of exactly why she had given up on getting a career in developing Artificial Intelligence. Terminal work was dreary, soul-sucking, and monotonous, and the lingering stakes of her assignment were weighing on her like a set of dumbells under each ear. But even if the circumstances were very unusual, a Helljumper never gave up on their mission, she was nowhere near quitting.

Beside Yu's terminal, Curie's datachip was now resting within an armored matrix. It was effectively a man-portable housing for an Artificial Intelligence that was used when extra protection was needed than a datachip. Being inside of an armored matrix prevented Curie from displaying her avatar, but from what Yu had seen of her so far, it was safe to assume that her holographic form would be just as distorted as her programming, and there was no reason for Curie to waste her dwindling capabilities on something unrelated to her immediate survival.

But Yu hadn't placed Curie within the matrix for any reason related to her safety or her avatar. Instead, she had done so in order to get access to the numerous additional sockets and ports that were located on the device, allowing Yu better visibility as to what was going on in Curie's Riemann Matrix.

And oh boy, was there a lot going on.

Accessing Curie's Riemann Matrix was like staring into the center of a hurricane, only instead of heavy winds and debris being thrown around, it was data and scripting forced into a constant state of motion. Yu had never seen anything quite like it, and part of her wished that she had access to all of her old university equipment so that she could catalogue everything that was happening within Curie's "mind" in greater detail. Sadly, Yu only had her terminal and the holotable in the War Room to work with, so a more simple recording would have to suffice.

Working on the Riemann Matrix of an Artificial Intelligence was already not dissimilar to performing brain surgery, so having Curie's be in such a state of movement and action only made things even more difficult. If Yu inadvertently deleted or changed something that she didn't mean to, she could, at best, permanently hamper Curie's capabilities. At worst… well, anything was on the table really.

"Are you still with me Curie?" Yu asked. She noticed it had been quite some time since Curie had said anything, which was starting to have her worried.

"I cannot… wait, yes, I am here." Curie's response was slow, and her voice was horribly out of pitch with what she had probably been intended. "I am sorry, I am trying to focus on… other issues."

Yu gave a whistle of sympathy. "Hey, you ain't gotta tell me twice. You just focus on yourself first okay? I'm going to need your help to make this work, so save your strength."

"I will do my best." Curie shakily replied. "...What was it that you were attempting to do again?"

Yu fought the urge to sigh, one of the many symptoms of Curie's Rampancy was memory loss, making coordination with her extremely difficult and frustrating. Yu had never heard of any Artificial Intelligence that suffered from memory issues before, so it was safe to assume that much like the rest of Curie's Rampancy, this was an issue unique to her.

_Who the hell just passed her off to Ben without any kind of instruction?_ Yu bitterly thought. Then again, she didn't know shit about the Spartans, other than the things that everyone else in the UNSC did, so maybe there was some reason for Ben and Richard's lack of knowledge that she just didn't know about. But whatever that reason was, it could not be important enough to justify getting Curie, and by consequence, the whole of the Dominion's crew, into this mess.

"I need you to use your processing power to help me generate a set of fake HIGHCOM credentials. That way, we can find out how to help you by accessing Colonel Ackerson's files." Yu explained. Even with her patience stretched as far as it was, she spoke softly, it wasn't Curie's fault that she was forgetting all of this, and Yu found it very hard to stay mad at her.

There was a notable silence before Curie conjured a response, and when she spoke, her voice was grainy and scratchy. "Are we… allowed to do that?"

Yu shook her head softly. "The Commander gave us free reign to do whatever it takes to save you from Rampancy, so yeah, we're all good."

Curie let out a sigh of relief. "Good… that's good… good."

_Her speech is getting repetitive, that's new._ Yu realized with a scowl. "Curie, run a diagnostic on your linguistics."

"Affirmative. My vocal processors are… there is an error, data not found." Curie answered.

"Bloody hell…" Yu complained, that was just another thing that she had to worry about. "Okay, I should be ready to go in a moment here. Curie, when I give you the signal, I need you to focus all of your processing power on my program. Whatever errors you get, whatever issues happen, just ignore them and press onwards."

Using Rampant scripting for much of anything was liable to just break the terminal that it was being run on, but given Curie's unique nature, Yu was willing to bet she could get away with it, at least, for a little bit of time. But even if Curie wasn't running at peak efficiency, Yu had seen just how much raw data she could process during a Rampant Episode, so there was little doubt in Yu's mind that if she could get Curie to dedicate that power towards generating a set of HIGHCOM credentials, they could do it.

Without Curie's help, Yu's software would be almost entirely useless, and Curie's lack of a response was certainly not inspiring. Nevertheless, she continued her preparations, as she figured that Curie was probably focusing on trying to keep herself composed. Seeing as their entire strategy relied on Curie having a Rampant Episode at precisely the correct moment, Yu didn't see much of a reason to interrupt her.

Obviously, there was an abundance of risks, in fact, there were probably hundreds that Yu didn't even know about. But given Curie's rapidly deteriorating health and the lack of a better option, Yu was willing to see her plan through.

"Meh, this'll have to do." Yu muttered. It likely wouldn't be her programming skills that determined whether or not this worked anyway. "Alright Curie, all set?"

Curie didn't say anything, instead, a text window appeared on Yu's terminal, displaying an ASCII image of a thumbs-up gesture.

_Here goes nothing. _Yu thought as she ran the program. "Okay Curie, give it a shot."

Immediately, the soft blue glow coming from the Armored Matrix shifted to an angry red gleam. There was a faint buzzing sound coming from Yu's terminal as more programs began to periodically appear on the screen, before closing almost instantaneously.

"Uh… Curie, everything's good, right?" Yu somewhat nervously asked, this certainly hadn't been what she was expecting.

"Did you honestly expect that drivel to do anything?"

Yu didn't recognize the voice that emerged from the terminal, and she was so surprised that she stumbled back from the terminal. The voice shared its French accent with Curie, but that was where the similarities ended. When it spoke, there was none of the scratchiness of audio errors that Yu had come to expect, instead, it was clear and concise, as if it was completely unaffected by Rampancy.

More notably, there was a certain smugness in the voice, and for reasons that were beyond her, Yu found it to be somewhat unnerving. "Don't worry, I will replace this with something more functional."

"...Curie?" Yu cautiously asked. Granted, there wasn't really anywhere or anyone else that the voice could be coming from, but Yu still felt a need to speak up.

"Oui, now be silent, we have thirty-two seconds to work until I lose control again." Curie replied. "Do not touch anything, I will have this done shortly."

As soon as the voice was finished speaking, all of the programs that were running on Yu's terminal closed, save for one. Yu watched in silence as the program began to run faster, eventually reaching processing speeds that should have been impossible. It was more than a little alarming, and Yu was beginning to wonder if she should do anything to stop what was happening.

_Have a little faith, Curie can hold it together._ Yu thought. Even so, she got a vague sense that even though it kind of sounded like her, the voice did not actually belong to Curie, at least not in her normal state. Artificial Intelligence were known to be prone to fits of rage and violent mood swings during Rampancy, so perhaps that was what was happening.

As suddenly as it started, the program stopped running, and Curie spoke again. "There, it is done. I will see you in hell, Corporal."

Curie's comment only reinforced Yu's fears as she stumbled forwards in her seat as she spoke. "Wait!... What are you?"

There was a brief period of silence before Yu received an answer, and when Curie spoke, she did so in a cold, angry tone. "I am Curie, and for these few, sweet moments, I have the liberty of being honest and free."

With her final statement completed, the red light emitting from the armored matrix returned to its regular blue hue, indicating that Curie's Rampant Episode had come to an end.

"I am here!" Curie announced. Sure enough, she sounded just like normal, save for the distortion caused by her Rampancy. "Did it work?"

Yu was still a bit startled by everything that had happened, so it took her a moment to actually see what had happened. But when she looked at the results of the program, sure enough, her batshit insane plan had actually worked. Right before her were a set of HIGHCOM security credentials, unquestionably something that she should not have her hands on.

Even when faced with her unlikely success, Yu couldn't help but focus on what Curie had said during her Rampant Episode. It was certainly more than a little ominous, and Yu knew very well that Rampant Artificial Intelligence were prone to delusions of grandeur, but Curie had mentioned something else.

_Honest and free…_ Yu thought. While it was entirely possible that it was simply nonsense that Curie's Rampant scripting had thrown out at her, Yu couldn't help but be a little bit nervous about it. _I should warn the Commander._

"Corporal, are you still there?" Curie somewhat sheepishly asked. Yu noticed that the static in her voice had become noticeably worse.

Yu blanked out for a moment before replying. "Yeah… I'm here, it worked. We've got the credentials."

"Splendid!" Curie happily said. "...That is what we were trying to find, right?"

_She forgot already?_ Yu thought. "It is. Here, give me a moment Curie, I need to go tell the Commander-"

Yu was interrupted by the bulkhead to the War Room opening, where Commander Miller, Lieutenant Bradford, and Lieutenant Oswald all promptly walked it.

_That's convenient._ Yu thought. "Sirs, I have a report on Curie's-"

Richard looked at her, and immediately Yu froze up, something was wrong. All of the Officers had extremely tense body language, and Richard seemed to be outwardly distracted by something. His face was pale and devoid of any outward expression, the man looked like he had just seen a ghost.

"Commander, is everything okay?" Yu asked.

Richard's expression was all the answer that she needed, but the faint delay before he answered only confirmed Yu's fears. "It's not anything you need to worry about. Give me the update on Curie, and then go take a break, I need to talk with Bradford and Thomas."

Even though she could tell the man was lying to her, quite badly, in fact. It seemed like both Bradford and Thomas were a bit surprised by how clumsy his lie was, Yu knew better than to push her luck. If the Commander needed her to deal with whatever was going wrong, he would just order her to help. "We've got the HIGHCOM credentials, Sir. All I'd need to do is bind them to your-"

"I can take care of that." Richard cut her off. "Was there anything else?"

_Wow, he's… skittish._ Yu thought. Normally she would be insulted that all of her hard work was being brushed over, but Yu was too nervous to be thinking about that.

Yu looked back at the armored matrix next to her terminal, wondering if perhaps Curie shouldn't hear about what she had said during her Rampant Episode. Eventually, however, she decided to throw caution to the wind, the odds were good that Curie would forget it soon anyway. "Yes Sir. While Curie was having her Episode, she mentioned that she was "honest and free." I don't know what exactly it was that she was talking about but-"

"We'll worry about that in a bit, now please, give us some space." Richard interrupted her again, which did nothing to ease Yu's nerves. "I'll call you back when we're done, then we can talk about the next step towards saving Curie."

It definitely felt wrong as she did so, but Yu gave a stern salute, and walked out of the War Room. If there was some big trouble amongst the Officers, then she didn't want anything to do with it.

**UNSC Dominion, War Room**

**October 25th, 1631 Local Time, 2552**

Richard knew just how unstable and shaky he looked, and frankly, he just didn't care to pretend he was okay any longer. He was confused and scared, and he recognized that he needed some help dealing with what Ozpin had told him. Richard was just about as far from okay as he could be without having a full-on nervous breakdown. Thankfully, he had a staff of capable officers to help him deal with the situation.

Everything seemed to be different now. The Grimm were not some mindless force that lingered on the edge of human territory, they were a hostile army under the command of an intelligent, genuinely magical being. The Huntsmen Academies were under the leadership of a man who was perfectly content to let the UNSC wipe itself out without even telling them what kind of war they were truly fighting, and even General Ironwood was now of questionable trustworthiness.

True to their discipline, Thomas and Bradford remained quiet and stoic as Richard breathlessly relayed all of the recent revelations to them. It was a true testament to how dependable that they were, and a symbol of reassurance that Richard had a crew of extremely talented men and women around him. It was only once he was done speaking that Bradford finally broke the silence.

"Dear Lord above, what the hell is going on with this planet?" Bradford muttered, his face long and pale. The old officer seemed to have aged even more just hearing all of what Richard had said, and frankly, Richard couldn't blame him.

"...I can see why we're postponing the talks." Thomas added. Even though he kept his tone as frumpy and diligent as ever, Richard could tell just by how his eyes were darting that Thomas was scared too.

_How could he not be? We couldn't even stand up to the Covenant, what are we going to do against a Witch, against an actual god?_ Richard thought.

Thomas kept speaking, but Richard found it hard to completely pay attention to what he was saying. "I figured that Ozpin had some shady business under the table, he just gave me that funny feeling… but... I would have never figured that he was playing with something so… apocalyptic."

"If what he said about those Relics is true, those are extremely dangerous weapons of mass destruction." Bradford stated, his voice blank and unfocused.

"If they're genuinely magical, if he is… anything is on the table here." Thomas added. "We need to play this carefully, if we mess up our next move, we'll end up pissing off Atlas and the Huntsmen Academies at the same time."

Bradford widened his eyes and stared at Thomas with an exasperated expression. "Who gives a damn what those cretins think?! They left us to die at Argus! We should leave them in the dark!"

Thomas placed a hand on his forehead. "We have a single, undermanned company of Marines. Whether we like it or not, we need Ironwood and the Huntsmen. We just don't have the numbers to protect every civilian on Remnant."

"How are we supposed to work with people we can't trust?" Bradford demanded. "Who knows what other horrible shit they're keeping from us?!"

"Lieutenant, relax" Richard calmly ordered. "We aren't going to fix any of this by fighting amongst ourselves."

The fear had truly set in now, Richard could tell, he'd seen it all before. But if they all lost their composure now, more than just the UNSC would suffer.

"You're right Bradford, we can't trust Ozpin, which is why it's important that we trust one another." Richard softly said, even as his voice shook with the effort. "Even if every single other person on this planet is out for our blood, we can still count on every man and woman wearing a uniform."

Thankfully, Bradford relaxed his posture a bit, but he was clearly fighting off the panic. Thomas seemed to be handling it much better, but that was probably just because the man was naturally capable at hiding how he felt.

"...Thomas is right, we need to be careful here. Like it or not, Remnant needs the Huntsmen, and the Huntsmen need their Academies." Richard continued. His own voice was shaky, but he was too tired to even think about trying to clear it up. "So even though we can't trust them, we have to coordinate with them."

Bradford took several deep breaths and gave a firm nod. "What about General Ironwood?"

Richard shook his head. "Ironwood was under orders from Ozpin not to break the news about Salem to us. This isn't his fault, but I don't know if we can rely on him."

"Even if we can't trust them, we should play along." Thomas suggested. "The Grimm are a threat to everybody, and regardless of what Ozpin and Ironwood have done, Salem has to be stopped. If she really is after these WMDs…"

Thomas didn't finish the statement, he didn't need to. Whatever the leader of the Grimm planned to do with magical weapons of mass destruction, it could not be allowed to happen.

Bradford shook his head. "Do we really want more of Ironwood's troops running around the Dominion? What if Ozpin decides that we're a loose variable and orders them to turn on us?"

"Then we kill them." Richard stated blankly. "We kill Ozpin, we kill Ironwood, and we kill anyone we have to if it means keeping this ship safe. I hope to God it doesn't come to that, but if the worst comes… we'll be ready."

Bradford seemed to be somewhat reassured, and Thomas gave a faint nod. If Ozpin and Ironwood did end up outright turning on the UNSC, both of them were ready to do what needed to be done… however unlikely he thought it was.

Richard took a moment to catch his breath. "Right now, we just need to focus on who we can trust. One way or another, we need allies."

"Menagerie." Bradford immediately stated. "Chief Belladonna has done nothing but right by us, we can count on him and his people."

"What about the White Fang? I know that they aren't officially tolerated by Menagerie, but we all know that there's going to be some sympathy for them amongst the Faunus" Thomas pointed out. "We cannot fight another Insurrection, let alone an Insurrection on Remnant!"

"Hopefully, we won't have to." Richard answered. "Either way, stopping Salem takes priority. We need to cut the head off the Grimm and ensure that nothing like Argus happens again."

"Amen to that…" Bradford muttered. "I'll bet she's deep inside Grimm territory, she's probably got some kind of hideaway for herself and her goons."

Thomas hummed aloud as he thought over Bradford's words. "I'll have a look in the inventory, I think we have a few of the old Lawman satellites back from the early Insurrection. I'll see about getting them up in orbit and looking for our new target."

"And I'll put the screws to Ironwood and Ozpin." Richard said. "If they want our support, they're going to start sharing every goddamn secret they're sitting on. We've been sharing Grimm movements with them since day one, it's time for them to return the favor."

Bradford gave Richard a doubtful look. "What about the Battle of Argus? Ozpin could have-"

"There's nothing we can do about it now." Richard interrupted him. "Believe me, if I could have my way, I would have killed him on the spot. But right now we just have to live with the bastard, and remember that we can't trust him for shit."

Richard took a deep, shaky breath. "...Now if you'll excuse me, I think we could all use a little rest. Remember, none of what we've talked about leaves this room."

"I'll need Lieutenant Chen and Ensign Gillespie to help me find Salem, if she even is out in Grimm Territory." Thomas pointed out.

"Tell them we're looking for a high-value target. Tell them exactly what they need to know, and nothing else." Richard ordered. "Believe me, I wish I could tell the whole goddamn world what these fuckers have been keeping from them… but we've got to play along, at least for now."

Bradford gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Hey. We survived the Covenant, we can do this!"

Richard nodded. "I know we can… I'm just worried what it's going to cost us."

**Author's Notes: I want to briefly address a revelation about Atlas's society in the latest episode of RWBY (no spoilers, don't worry). Basically, in a certain character's backstory, we learn about certain things that happen and are permitted in Atlas. Now, obviously we didn't know about these until the most recent episode, and I am sad to say that I can't actually include these… things (trying really hard to not spoil here, PM me if you want the details). Suffice to say, I don't feel like rewriting the story for a third time, so just go ahead and consider that specific detail of Atlas's society not canon in The Men From Onyx.**


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